


The Wulver's Stane

by edlweiss



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Be gentle, Christmas, F/F, Loads of it, Meddling TARDIS, Mistletoe, Pining, Smut, Sort Of, Yaz is a total mess, first fanfic, sentient house, there's an actual plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edlweiss/pseuds/edlweiss
Summary: The fam answers a distress beacon that takes them into the snowy Scottish winter, deep in Christmastime. They thought it would be a quick stopover before heading back to Sheffield. Something out in the cold night has another idea. Yaz and the Doctor are a pining mess and they get some help from an unlikely source.
Relationships: The Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 21
Kudos: 105





	1. The distress beacon

The Doctor and team were scattered around the console room, taking a moment after a recent adventure that involved a runaway Terraxian spaceship and a group of homicidal tree-like things, and everyone was contemplative as the Tardis whirred on reassuringly. Graham was snoring quietly in a corner, his head down on his chest. Yaz and Ryan sat on the stairs, leaning against each other, watching the Doctor dither over some loose wire underneath the console.

Overall, it had been a surprisingly uneventful endeavor to get the trees to calm down and release their hold on the ship’s supply of vegetables. Just a bit of empathy and some good clean water were all it took.

Yaz is quiet, but her thoughts are anything but. She’d been on edge all day. And it was no one’s fault but her own. 

Well, that wasn’t strictly true. But the other party was a seemingly unwitting participant. Unrequited…what, lust? Love? All of the above, was it? Her mind was in turmoil.

Yaz had been stealing glances at the Doctor when she hoped no one was looking, unable to resist the pull the woman had on her. She didn’t know how she was going to stay sane in the grip of this infatuation. It was eating her up inside with every passing day, and reducing her to a wanton, panting mess every night, alone in her bedroom on the Tardis. She felt like an orbiting planet and the Doctor was the sun, all bright and full of heat and magnetism. If she wasn’t careful, Yaz was sure she would burn up. Could you get an ulcer from pining? She reckoned so. Yaz watched the time lord as she puttered, a wistful look on her face.

Ryan nudged her. “Penny for your thoughts, Khan?” he spoke low, his head tilted as he looked her way. 

“There’s not much happening up there, I’m afraid.” she responded.

Ryan looked pointedly at the Doctor, who was now trying to pry open a panel that looked as if it hadn’t been open in a millennia. Her goggles sat askew on her head and her hair was mussed. Her tongue stuck out in determination. Yaz smiled crookedly as she watched her. Ryan raised his eyebrows at Yaz.

“I say that’s rubbish. There’s a whole lot happening up there, mate.” he elbowed her gently again and proceeded to waggle his eyebrows even more.

Yaz slapped him and said, “I have no idea what you could be on about.” 

He looked directly at her and said, “Whatever you say, love.” Yaz blushed.

At that moment, the Tardis blared a distress beacon. They had been preparing to circle back to Earth for some needed downtime. The Doctor checked a screen and noted that it was coming from Earth anyway, somewhere in the north of Scotland, so they may as well check it out. 

“Two birds, one stone and all that. Or, two Earths, one trip? No, that’s not quite right. Two Britains, one…Tardis? Hmm. One Earth…” She trailed off, he faced scrunched up in concentration. “Dunno, lost me train of thought.” The Doctor peeled off her goggles and flipped the lever to send the Tardis to the destination.

Yaz smiled into her own shoulder at the way the alien’s crazy brain worked. She loved listening to the endless nattering. It was comforting, like a favorite song.

As they touched down, Ryan, Yaz, Graham and the Doctor crowded into the doorway of the blue police box and found themselves looking out at deep snowdrifts, sparkling in the light of a partial moon. In the distance, a small but charming house sat perched on the top of a low rise, glowing warmly from lighted windows. A little stream was off to the left, water moving languidly, quietly. There was a large outcropping of stone sitting in the middle of the water. Despite the picturesque scene, everything was very still and a little too serene for Yaz’s liking. There was no wind, no birdsong, no noises one would normally expect in nature.

The Doctor, who had been silently observing the scene, spoke softly from directly behind Yaz’s left shoulder: “Well, isn’t this lovely?” Her breath tickled the skin on Yaz’s neck and she shivered, realizing how close the Doctor was, noticing the heat from her body pressed up against her back. Yaz reflexively leaned back and had to struggle not to let her eyelids slip shut from the sensation. God was she in trouble here.

“Cold, Yaz?” The Doctor murmured, noticing Yaz’s reaction. She placed a hand on the younger woman’s arm, rubbing briskly up and down as if trying to warm her up. Yaz couldn’t get any warmer then she already was. She suppressed another shudder and felt herself getting wet between her legs. Fuck, the woman could turn her on at the slightest touch.

Yaz finally found her voice. “Not yet, but it looks like we’re going to be in a mo’.” She turned to Ryan and threw him a dimpled smirk. Ryan hated the cold with a passion. 

The Doctor hadn’t removed her hand and was absentmindedly brushing her thumb back and forth across Yaz’s tricep. Yaz pressed her thighs together and tried not to sigh.

“Oh, bollocks, do we have to go out there? Everything seems perfectly fine.” Ryan gestured toward the landscape outside. At that moment, a piercing howl erupted out in the darkness. It sounded suspiciously wolf-like. Ryan’s hand froze and then dropped to his side dejectedly.

“You were saying?” The Doctor moved her hand from Yaz’s arm and scanned the open night quickly with her sonic, studying it with a pensive frown. 

“No readings. Guess we’ll have to get out there and explore. Fancy a trudge through the snow, fam? Let’s go grab some more appropriate togs.” She sniffed the outside air thoughtfully. “Oooh! Christmas! Excellent!” With that pronouncement, and with an ear-to-ear smile stuck firmly in place, she turned and raced toward the wardrobe. Graham and the rest just shook their heads and strolled off in her wake.

\-------------------------------------------------------

After securing some winter gear and jumping out the door and into the snow, the team briefly looked around the area where the Tardis had landed. The snow was powdery and soft, and Yaz trailed her hand through it as she wandered down to the creek. She peered into the water, admiring the beauty of the stars in the reflection. She started when she heard a loud splash coming from just around the bend in the stream. 

“He—llo?” she called haltingly, feeling like a bit of a wanker. “Someone there? Are you all right? Uhm…need help?” No response, just the rippling water. Yaz turned to head back to the group. She heard another, quieter sound and spun back around, peering into the murky black of the big river stone’s shadow. For just a moment, she spied two bright discs of gold flashing in the dark, reflecting light back to her from the moon. They looked…like eyes. Animal eyes. She pressed her lips together tightly and started taking steps backwards. Feeling even more foolish, she felt compelled to bow toward the stone, hoping that whatever was lurking in the shadows looked favorably on deference. The lights blinked out. Yaz didn’t see anything more but nonetheless she kept her eyes on the stone until it was out of sight around the hill. 

She walked (well, maybe jogged) back to the group and told them what she’d seen.

“Must’a been tha’ howlin’ we heard,” Ryan said, “Hope it’s had its meals for the day.” He swallowed audibly, turning in a circle to look out into the night.

The Doctor was looking at Yaz. “You alright?” Yaz tipped her what she hoped was a jaunty salute. The corners of the Doctor’s mouth quirked up and she bobbed her head in approval.

“Right then, gang. On to the house?” They all nodded. “Ok, on we go.”

The team set their sights on the house. They waded through the deep drifts, Ryan grumbling the whole time that his jeans were getting soaked through. They finally tromped up onto the porch, stomping their feet to free them of the snow that had caked on and slapping their arms with their hands to keep the circulation going. They walked along the porch and peered inside through the lighted windows, teeth chattering. It didn’t appear anyone was home, though there was a roaring fire in the grate. The interior however, was positively bursting to capacity with Christmas decorations. Tinsel, bows, little snowmen figurines, candles everywhere, and a Christmas tree, twinkling merrily in the far corner. 

Ryan pointed to the windowsill just in front of him.

“That’s something I haven’t seen before. New kind of holiday decoration?” he said. On the sill lay a fish, brown and speckled. It looked very fresh. Very. Yaz shivered, remembering the eyes in the dark.

Graham peered over Ryan’s shoulder. “That looks like a trout, that does. Y’know I did a bit of fishing in my day.” Ryan rolled his eyes. Graham continued, “Maybe the trout’s for whatever was off howlin’ in the night?”

The Doctor was examining the doorframe as if it was a mysterious artifact and not a regular old wooden door, but looked around at the mention of the fish. “How delightful!” she trilled, stepping over and bending down to get uncomfortably close to the fish. Yaz couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head at her friend’s reaction. You could always count on the Doctor to call something as inane as a dead fish “delightful”. The Doctor looked her way and knocked her a wink, holding her gaze for longer than Yaz expected. Yaz dropped her eyes, felt the blush rising into her cheeks, and hoped everyone would blame the chill.

The Doctor glanced back to the sonic. “Hmmm, not getting any lifeform readings. Why all the lights on then? Where did everybody go?” She eyed the fish warily, like it was going to suddenly pipe up and confess to making everyone disappear. 

Just then, her sonic started flickering and making noises. It was even shaking visibly in the Doctor’s hand. She looked at it, scrunching up her face, confused.

“Well, it’s never done that before.” She squinted briefly at the fish again and then puffed out a breath. 

“Maybe—“ Before she could say anything more, the Tardis cranked and wheezed behind them in the field of snow, and began to dissipate from view.

“What?” The Doctor shouted. “WHAT? Oi! Where d’ya think you’re going?!” She ran down the porch steps but stopped abruptly as the Tardis vanished. The Doctor’s sonic shook again. She looked down, her eyebrows knitted together. “Well, I never. Bloody cheek.”

“Doc. Did the Tardis just leave us stranded?” Graham said warily. She stepped backward until her boot caught the bottom step and she whirled and hopped lightly back up to the porch. She looked paler than usual.

“Maybe she just had a previous appointment?” her brows furrowed. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but let’s try to be as quiet as possible and not disturb whatever’s giving my sonic a proper fit. I’m usually dead good for Christmastime, but something about this house definitely does NOT give me holiday cheer.” The Doctor tapped one delicate finger against her pursed mouth, looking back to where the Tardis had been. She said softly, “what are you up to, old girl?”

Yaz shuffled her feet, unconsciously moving to keep her legs warm in the deep cold of the night. Her breath billowed in front of her in the frigid air. She wrapped the borrowed down coat from the TARDIS tighter around her. Her movements caused the Doctor to look her way again, and the older woman smiled when she saw Yaz had been watching her. Yaz felt heat pooling in her stomach and at her core. Her breath hitched. Then the Doctor’s eyes darted up and her mouth fell open in horror.


	2. Christmas customs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Doctor addresses a weird emergency with Yaz, and a house that's possibly possessed messes with the team.

“Yaz!” The Doctor held up her hands and began walking slowly toward her. “Do. Not. Move. A muscle.” 

Yaz froze in place, eyes wide and looking at the Doctor as she approached. Oh god. Was something behind her? What could possibly cause the Doctor to react like that? Her hands clenched and she bit her lip, refusing to make a sound. Thoughts of the golden eyes she saw down at the river flooded her mind. 

Ryan and Graham looked on guardedly.

“What’s she…” Ryan started to say.

“No idea.” Graham answered. “Oh, I hope we don’t have to run again.” he muttered miserably.

The Doctor crossed the porch, stopping inches from Yaz, her face very close. The garish rainbow scarf the Doctor had chosen from the Tardis wardrobe bunched up between them. Without any explanation, she cupped her right hand behind Yaz’s head, her thumb brushing against her cheek. Her fingertips were cold and her expression indecipherable. Her other hand grasped Yaz’s shoulder. Yaz blinked and felt her focus narrow to the delicious feeling of the Doctor’s hands on her.

“Sorry,” the Doctor whispered.

“Wha---“ Yaz managed to squeak out before the Doctor leaned in and pressed her lips to Yaz’s. The older woman’s torso pushed up against hers, and Yaz’s hands fluttered weakly in the air, her brain not being able to process what was actually happening. She dimly wondered if she were daydreaming as her eyes slipped shut. The Doctor’s lips were warm and firm and moved ever so slightly, deepening the kiss. Just as Yaz had determined this was a real thing happening and started to respond, sighing, the Doctor pulled away with a self-satisfied expression on her face, smiling broadly.

Yaz’s head moved with the Doctor’s as she leaned away, unconsciously trying to continue the kiss, and her eyes flew open. She worked again to speak. 

“I…whu-what?” was all she managed. She stared at the Doctor, bewildered.

The Doctor nodded and pointed over Yaz’s head. “Mistletoe. Nasty stuff that. I’ve seen bad things happen to people who weren’t kissed when they were stood under the mistletoe. Believe you me, the Norse myth got it all wrong. Remind me to tell you about what really happened to Baldr and Frigg sometime.”

Yaz didn’t know how to respond. Her mouth hung open slightly. The Doctor looked at her expectantly, but when the younger woman failed to say anything, the time lord’s eyebrows winched up and her eyes fell to Yaz’s lips and then away awkwardly. Yaz noticed a slight flush at the Doctor’s neck. She licked her lips and tried not to stare. The Doctor’s gloriously constructed neck and clavicle were things that occupied Yaz’s thoughts far more than they should. One too many nights had been spent in her bed, her hand stroking her clit, head thrown back into the pillow, imaging the noises she could illicit from the Doctor by planting wet kisses on the spot at the base of the neck where it met her shoulder. She looked up again and caught the Doctor’s gaze settled back on Yaz’s mouth. They were still standing very, very close. Yaz gulped.

Ryan coughed uneasily into the silence.

“Well, that’s you sorted!” The Doctor brayed a bit too loudly. She patted Yaz lightly on both arms, rocked back on her booted heels and turned toward the front door. “Now, let’s just give a knock and see if something answers. I changed my mind about being quiet. Never been good at that, me.”

Yaz brought a shaky hand up to her mouth and looked dazedly at Graham, still unable to speak. Graham shrugged and smiled at her. “Better you than me, love,” he laughed.

The Doctor smartly rapped out “shave and a haircut” on the front door and pressed her ear to the wood expectantly, a goofy smile on her face.

Everyone jumped when the whole house seemed to boom back the echoing “two bits” answer. The noise was so loud that it shook dust from the porch’s ceiling and the team all clapped their hands over their ears and grimaced. Goosebumps broke out on Yaz’s arms.

“Yep, definitely not quiet.” The Doctor said. 

The door swung open. No one was on the other side. The foyer, unlike the bright living room, was dark, murk moving everywhere. Everyone stared, frozen to the spot.

“Uhm. I dunno about you lot but I’m not exactly chuffed to go in there.” Graham said. 

The four looked at one another, shrugged as one, and the Doctor stepped across the threshold. Yaz was on the Doctor’s heels in seconds. The others followed, inching forward more reluctantly. Once they were all clustered in a tight group in the middle of the hall, the front door slammed shut behind them with a thunderous finality, followed by silence. Yaz instinctively reached for the Doctor’s hand, grasping it tightly, and was reassured when the Doctor squeezed her hand in return. Neither of them let go. 

Ryan on the other hand had wrapped his arms around Graham from behind in a bear hug and had squeezed his eyes shut tight.

“Oh god oh god oh god. I don’t like haunted houses.” he hissed.

“My son, you’re clutching the life out of me.” Graham wheezed.

“C’mon Ryan, buck up! Nothing like a good haunted house to get the blood pumpin’.” The Doctor stage-whispered. At that, the house groaned and creaked like a ship listing in a rough sea and something somewhere in the house laughed softly. Ryan’s eyes went from clamped shut to giant round moons of terror. 

Yaz squeezed the Doctor’s hand again. The Doctor stared ahead of her looking for any sign of danger, but changed her grip and brought their joined hands up, slotting them into the crook of her armpit. This pulled Yaz closer to the Doctor’s side, and she wasn’t about to object to the proximity. She was acutely aware that her hand was now nestled against the outside of the Doctor’s right breast. Oh. She could still feel the ghost of the time lord’s fingers at the back of her scalp. And that kiss. Whew. Couldn’t forget that. She pressed recklessly up against the back of the Doctor’s arm, hoping that the circumstances they currently found themselves in would allow for a closer brush-up. She was surprised to note the Doctor’s throat bobbing up and down and a small shiver pass through her. But it had to be the cold, right? Or…or fear of their current jam?

God, all she wanted to do was wrap her other arm around the Doctor’s waist and bury her face in the woman’s hair. Maybe stroke the outside of her breast with the pad of her thumb, if she were being honest with herself. Totally acceptable behavior in the moment, yeah? No one would look twice at a nuzzle and a grope. Yaz, you’re a bloomin’ mess. 

The Doctor turned her face back toward Yaz and her pupils were blown out in the darkness, only a hint of dim hazel surrounding them. Now that they were this close again, the just-moments-ago-kiss seemed to come back to both women and Yaz’s breathing became shallower, her eyes again dropping to the Doctor’s lips and her eyelids falling to half-mast as she remembered the feel of those lips on hers. The Doctor swallowed thickly again and her thumb moved across Yaz’s knuckles slowly, sending electric sensations directly down her spine and right to her clit, like a bloody telegraph. A whimper rose in her throat but she managed to suppress it so only a small sound actually came out. Yaz was pretty sure she could die happily in this moment. 

A door just in front and to the left of the four of them swung open, showing them into the bright living room they had glimpsed from outside.

The spell broken, the Doctor relaxed, released Yaz’s hand and moved toward the open door. Yaz ached in the absence or her.

The time lord put her hands on her hips, hero-style, and spoke loudly into the air.

“All right now, you, you’ve had your fun. What’s the end game here? Do you need summat from us or you just messin’ about?” The Doctor eyed the air expectantly, but she didn’t receive an answer, until a small bell sounded from inside the living room. The Doctor squinted suspiciously.

“Just messin’ about it is, then. Fair enough. We’ll follow your noisy breadcrumbs.” she said. Ryan scratched his head and looked upwards, trying to figure out if what she just said made any sense.

The Doctor stepped into the living room and held out her arms, waiting. Her three companions followed her into the space.

“Well?” she entreated. 

Graham spoke up as he glanced around the room. “Y'know, this is actually quite a nice little gaff. Proper cozy, yeah? Look at these sofas. I think I could nap for a good long while ‘ere. Mind if I sit?” He asked in a too loud voice. 

Ryan looked at him like he had lost a screw. “Who ‘dya think you’re talkin’ to, Grandad?” 

Another ding sounded. Graham nodded and pointed at Ryan as if to say, question answered. He plopped down onto the nearest seat and tipped an imaginary cap toward the room. “Cheers,” he said loftily.

Yaz tracked the sound to a small silver bell nestled on the mantel, among some pine boughs. “Have a look,” she said. 

Ryan and the Doctor peered over her shoulder. The bell was round and delicate, with gorgeous filigree running along the sides. It looked like something Santa Claus would have attached to his sleigh. There was lux red ribbon lying loose around it. The Doctor spied a hand-written note next to the bell and read it aloud, her mouth hung open in concentration. 

“To the well-worn and courageous traveler, take ye rest. The wulver watches you.” 

Her eyebrows pulled up in surprise. “Wulver? What? But they haven’t been seen around here in an age. That can’t be. I thought…why would it?…impossible.” She trailed off and started pacing back and forth, her coat flapping behind her. She unwound the giant scarf from her neck as she moved, dropping it onto a nearby chair. Yaz unzipped her down coat and peeled it off as well. It was hot in the closed space. Ryan eyed Graham on the sofa and shook his head. The Doctor stopped in front of the bell to read the note again at each turn of her walk. She paced to the window and stared out into the darkness, muttering softly. She straightened suddenly and whirled around, jabbing a finger at Yaz with her mouth wide with pleasure.

“Ah-ha! Yazmin Khan, you wonderful human.” The Doctor walked over and grasped Yaz by the shoulders again. Yaz watched the time lord, a question in her eyes. Even with all this going on, she still thrilled to the Doctor’s closeness. For fuck’s sake, PC Khan, get a goddamned grip.

“Thank you?” Yaz said.

“What you saw in the stone’s shadow, down by the river. I know what it was”, she chattered excitedly. “They aren’t around much anymore, and if you do manage to see one it can be a stroke of immense luck, like…like catching a leprechaun, although I don’t condone that, they’re very handsy, you know. Or, or like managing to be in the right place and grabbing an Anterazian timbler by its spilch!” She jumped up and down and so Yaz just started jumping along, even though that last bit went off into alien-speak. The Doctor’s enthusiasm was infectious.

She stopped jumping and leaned in toward Yaz’s face. “When you were down at the stream and saw those eyes in the shadows, what exactly did you do? Or what did you say?” The Doctor was practically touching Yaz’s nose with her own, so intent was she. Yaz couldn’t see anything but the older woman’s face. Not that she minded that, one bit. She could feel the Doctor’s breath on her face.

“I…a noise made me jump, so I called a greeting and asked if someone needed help.” The Doctor grabbed Yaz’s hands in hers excitedly, jiggling them back and forth with glee. 

“Anything else?” The Doctor yelped. 

“Oh. Well, I felt like a right dummy, but when I saw the eyes, I…I bowed toward it” she finished lamely, shrugging her shoulders.

“Oh my. You beautiful, considerate soul. How amazing are you?” The Doctor pressed closer and pulled Yaz into a fierce hug, speaking over her shoulder to Ryan and Graham. The latter of which looked suspiciously like he may have nodded off. Yaz brought her arms up and clutched the Doctor's back, blissfully. She was deeply aware of the feel of her breasts, separated as she was by only thin layers of clothing. “This right here, what Yaz has done, this is why I always fight for humans. You lot never cease to astonish me.” She turned and left a soft kiss on Yaz’s cheek, near her ear, and lingered, whispering so only she could hear. Her voice puffed warm air on to the shell of Yaz’s ear and she feared she was in danger of her knees buckling. 

“Such graciousness and care. You are so lovely.” Once more she brushed her lips against her skin. The Doctor stepped back out of the hug and touched Yaz’s cheek again, gently. Yaz absurdly felt tears spring to her eyes under the time lord’s regard.

“It. I. Any…” Yaz was searching blindly for words. The Doctor had the ability to wipe all thoughts from her mind with one caress. She shivered again. “It were just a simple thing. Anyone would have done the same.”

The Doctor observed her, a strange look in her hazel eyes. “I don’t think that’s true at all, Miss Khan.” Yaz blushed deeply then, and the older woman ran her fingers down Yaz’s arm to her hand, giving her another affectionate squeeze. If the Doctor touched her much more Yaz might lose her mind. She felt dizzy.

“It’s a bit warm in here, isn’t it?” As soon as Yaz said the words, the flames banked in the fireplace lowered noticeably and the candles around the room dimmed. Yaz’s mouth formed an ‘o’ of surprise and she looked from Ryan to the Doctor and back to the fireplace. Graham was left out, snoring peacefully from his corner cushion. The Doctor clapped her hands together, elated. She let out a pleased "Ha!"

“Shall I tell you what a wulver is?” The Doctor’s eyes twinkled, a mischievous glint residing there as she favored Yaz with another intense look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will likely be the smutty one, but it may cross into the one after.


	3. A wulver's wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor expounds on the wulver. The mysterious house gets more comfortable with its inhabitants.

\--“Shall I tell you what a wulver is?” The Doctor’s eyes twinkled, a mischievous glint residing there as she favored Yaz with another intense look.--

The house around them seemed to sigh in answer to the Doctor’s question. Ryan’s eyes momentarily widened. “That’s not something I’m going to get used to any time soon,” he said.

Yaz drifted to the window that looked out into the black of night, down toward the stream. She was silent and thoughtful. 

The Doctor waited for her response, hands clasped behind her back. She had taken off her coat now too, and stood in her shirtsleeves, shifting from foot to foot, looking something like a cross between someone rocking a baby and doing a soft shoe. She was clearly trying to temper her enthusiasm in respect to the younger woman, the one who had put them in this position.

Safe as houses, as the saying went. A rarity in the Doctor’s travels. She hopped a little in place.

As Yaz turned from the window, she glanced down and did a double take. The fish on the sill had vanished. Something had come onto the porch and taken it while they were in the room. She shivered. Pointed and looked back at the group.

“The fish disappeared?” She questioned, a worried look ghosting across her face.

The Doctor stepped over, saw the fish was gone, and nodded, looking puzzled but gratified. Yaz crooked an eyebrow at her.

“Goodness me, this is positively fascinatin’.” She patted Yaz reassuringly on the shoulder and grinned at her. 

“So, here we go.” The Doctor rubbed her hands together and went to the center of the room, commanding attention.

Yaz moved back and perched on the arm of the chair where the Doctor had deposited her scarf and coat. She nodded, a small smile playing about her mouth. Ryan leaned against the wall near the fireplace. Graham was really committing to his nap and had moved his legs up onto the sofa, head tilted in toward the back, arms folded over his chest. He’d taken up an entire couch. 

Yaz giggled. “I think Graham for one is positively riveted. Definitely wants to know.”

Ryan stepped over and smacked Graham on the arm. “Oi, old guy! Wake up and at least pretend like you’re listenin’.” 

Graham snorted and sat up abruptly. “Whazzit?” he chirped.

Ryan pointed at The Doctor. “She’s gonna tell us what we’re doing here, ya daft man.” Graham dutifully sat up straighter and fixed the Doctor with a bleary stare. 

“Ok, Doc, take her away.” he focused on her.

“Right. Ok. Wulvers.” The Doctor’s eyes rolled up as she thought about what she was going to tell them. She had her hands out in front of her, already gesturing emphatically, even before she’d really begun. Yaz had come to notice over the course of their travels that the Doctor loved a captive audience. And what were they here, if not captives of a sort? Captives in this weird, sentient house. Yaz watched the Doctor’s deft, strong hands and tried not to think about how they would feel running over her body. Tried. Tried and failed. 

“You lot know werewolves, yeah? Well, wulvers are the kinder, gentler brother to the werewolf, at least in theory if not practice. Spotted only ever in Scotland, and then not for at least a hundred years, if I’m judging our current time correctly. These blokes generally only want to be left alone to do their fishing. It were said they watched over the forests, a kind of companion to nature."

“Wha’, like a sasquatch type?” Ryan interjected.

“Righto, Ryan! A benevolent, if a little misanthropic, forest dweller!” The Doctor closed on him and leaned in nearer, as if she was telling a campfire story. It felt like that in a way, with the lights very muted now, mostly due only to the fire throwing out warmth and flickering shadows. The Christmas tree lights had dimmed as well, glinting softly in the low light. Yaz let out a happy exhale. She felt so good in this moment. 

“The wulver is a private type, but if they sensed a human or other creature in distress, or in need of help, they would occasionally try and assist them if they could. And if they weren’t in a mardy mood. And they mostly were. Kinda grumpy, y’know. Not much socializing. Most of the stories talk of wulvers guiding a piteous soul home who’d been lost in the forest, or helping poorer families with food if they were lacking.” 

Yaz piped up. “Like sparing a fish for the family? Leaving it at their house? Maybe on their window?”

The Doctor whirled and tilted her head, beaming at Yaz. The lights from the flickering fire lit the Doctor from below. The light caught her eyes and burnished like candles. She shone like some righteous, faraway star. Yaz had to do everything in her power to hold the Doctor’s gaze, but she did. She must. To look away seemed impossible. So she met the look, and returned it with as much feeling as she could muster. The fire flared briefly, and the house groaned.

“That’s…” The Doctor licked her lips and seemed to wrestle herself back to the present. She shook her head slightly and spun around, back toward Ryan and Graham. Yaz blinked and grabbed onto the chair back with her hand. The heat between her legs was like a furnace. 

“That’s exactly right, Yaz.” The Doctor said, looking directly at Ryan. His eyebrows lifted and he pointed at his chest with a question on his face.

The Doctor moved to sit next to Graham, having to shift his legs over slightly on the cushion next to him, and patted him on the arm companionably. 

“Almost done, Graham, promise,” she said.

His head snapped up from where it was listing forward. “Riveting stuff, chicken. I’m on the edge of me seat.”

“Another story I’ve heard. If the wulver is shone a kindness, he will revisit it tenfold. Like…a genie, with a wish to grant.” The Doctor was looking past Yaz, out into the night. “And if a wulver somehow had an extraordinary thing, like this here house,” she stood and placed her right hand on the wall, rubbing slightly. She laid her head briefly against the plaster and said, mostly to herself, “you, I can’t quite figure out, you beautiful whatever you are.” The fireplace huffed a pleased noise. 

“If the wulver had this, well, that would be something special, indeed. I think the house and the wulver want to do you a kindness.” She looked down, swallowed, and turned.

Her eyes softened and she smiled, turned her palms up and her shoulders rose, gesturing to Yaz.

What is this? Yaz thought. This is all for me? 

“Me?” she said aloud. “But…but I barely did anything. All this, this is a magical thing. Something spectacular. I don’t deserve anything, for what, for a half-hearted offer of help and a scared bow?” She sounded desperate and exasperated to her own ears.

“What you see as half-hearted and scared, something else could see as lionhearted and compassionate. You have no idea what the wulver has experienced in his time. Maybe you showed him the best of humanity.” The Doctor moved to Yaz, reached for her hand and threaded her fingers with her own. “And I have no doubt that’s what he saw. A morsel of kindness can fill the emptiest of souls.” The Doctor’s eyes were hard to read. 

“So, Yaz, the wulver. This strange and wonderful house. They are for you. And thankfully, I think, for the rest of us, because we’re you’re companions.” she winked again. “We’re probably as protected as we could ever hope to be." She paused, briefly, considering something. "And Yaz, I think the house may be very in tune with you. It’ll want to help you in any way it can.” The Doctor bit her lip in thought.

Yaz could feel herself falling toward some inevitability. Like all fates were converging in this one house, this one night. 

All of a sudden, the last adventure and their current fix seemed to catch up with Ryan, and he let out a jaw-cracking yawn. 

“You know, Graham might have the right idea of it, if we’re sure the house and the, the wulver are friends? As long as we’re sure nothing’s out to hurt us. I could do with a bit of a kip.” He wandered over to the other sofa opposite Graham, and sunk down into the seat. Graham had reverted to his previous, somnolent state. 

“Ooh. Grandad was too right. This is nice.” Ryan spied a soft-looking blanket stuffed into a basket on the other side of the sofa’s arm, and pulled it out and over him, stretching his legs out along the length of the couch. He let out something close to a groan and snuggled deeper.

“We can, yeah? Stay the night? After all, the Tardis did leave us in the lurch.” his eyes were already closed.

The Doctor glanced briefly in Yaz’s direction, but didn’t make eye contact, almost like she was nervous. Yaz thought that was odd, considering how literally in her face the Doctor had been this night. 

“I’m not sure we have any other option. Unless anyone fancies trying to find a cave outside?” The Doctor’s eyebrows rose and she lifted her upturned palms. “Y’know, I’m actually an excellent cave finder. Once when I were younger I inadvertently stumbled into a Cyclops cave and had to do some seriously fancy footwork to get out of there. It were a very good story, if anyone’s interested…” she stuck her thumbs under her braces and pulled them out, boasting. 

She didn’t get a response. 

The Doctor and Yaz looked between Ryan and Graham both now asleep and snoring. They shot amused expressions at one another.

“That were quick. We’re not that boring, are we?” Yaz said.

The Doctor looked pensive, glancing at the silver bell on the mantel. She muttered under her breath “Almost like summat wanted them asleep.” A crease appeared on her forehead. Her fingers drummed the mantel next to the bell and she watched the flames flicker, lost in thought. The wood popped in the hearth.

Yaz walked closer to the Doctor, stopping at her side. She placed a hand tentatively on the Doctor’s lower back, and fought not to rub it in circles. “What?” she said.

The Doctor jumped slightly, then relaxed. “Quit sneaking up on me, Khan.” She stared into the fire; crinkles of mirth feathered her nose. She smiled warmly. 

“What did you say to yourself just now, Doctor?” Yaz prodded, trying not to get distracted.

The Doctor pursed her lips together and looked at the floor. “It’s just strange that they both went to sleep so fast.” She sighed and leaned in to Yaz’s hand on her back. Yaz realized she had unconsciously started to rub the Doctor’s back anyway, regardless of her earlier resolve. She shifted slightly, moving closer to the Doctor and trailed her hand up the Doctor’s spine, lightly dragging her nails over the shirt. She traced lazy circles across and down, over her shoulders and down to the hips of the Doctor who had listed even closer to Yaz. Yaz’s breasts were rubbing against the Doctor’s arm and her eyes were locked on the Doctor’s throat, watching her chest rise and fall raggedly. 

“How...how does this feel?” Yaz purred, unable to look away from the milky expanse of skin. “Is this ok?”

“Mmm.” The Doctor hummed. “S’nice, Yaz.” Her voice lingered on the end of name, and it came out as "Yazzzz."

A door shut elsewhere in the house, snapping the two women out of their reverie. Yaz stumbled back and put her hand to her forehead, checking for a fever. What was all that? When did she get so bold?

The Doctor turned toward her, her breath still unsteady. “Hmm. Well.” The Doctor continued, clearing her throat. Her cheeks were tinged with pink. 

Yaz was going to say something about what just happened, but she honestly had no idea what. So she chose to redirect the conversation back to their two other friends, still nestled into the couches, completely oblivious to what just occurred. “What should we do about those two then?” she said, trying to sound jovial. It came out overly chipper. 

“Let’s let them sleep. Want to take a turn? See what’s what in this, your champion of a house?” She cocked an eyebrow at Yaz, but again, didn’t look her directly in the eyes. A slight breeze ruffled through the house, sounding almost like laughter. The silver bell on the mantel dinged softly.


	4. Little visible delights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz and the Doctor explore the rest of the house, ending in the lone bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smuttiness ensues.

The Doctor and Yaz crept quietly to the living room door. They needn’t have been so silent - the two men on the couches were deep in slumber, looking peaceful and happy. The Doctor gently pulled open the door and they stepped back through to the hallway. It was still pitch black in the space, and they peered around, getting their bearings and trying to spy any other doors.

Yaz tapped the Doctor lightly on the shoulder and pointed to their left. The Doctor followed the direction of her hand and they headed toward a door with a small line of soft light showing at its base. 

Pushing the door open, they found themselves in a small but tidy kitchen. A lone candle flickered on a wooden kitchen table in the center of the room. An older-looking refrigerator was in the far corner, next to a deep farmhouse-style sink. On the counter stood a plate of Christmas cookies, dusted and sparkling with sugar.

“Ooooh, sweets?!” the Doctor practically flew to the counter and had already stuffed a cookie into her mouth before Yaz could even blink. She laughed affectionately, her cheeks dimpling in amusement.

“Did you even have a chance to taste that?” she teased, coming over to the Doctor’s side. 

The Doctor had swallowed guiltily, looking a bit sheepish. “Y'know I can’t resist a good biscuit,” she grumbled. 

She had a bit of powdered sugar near the corner of her mouth, and before she could stop herself, Yaz had reached up to the Doctor’s face and picked up the sugar with the pad of her thumb. She considered it briefly and then her tongue darted out and licked some sugar off. “Mmm,” she whispered. Holding the Doctor’s gaze, she turned her thumb sideways and put it to her mouth, sucking the rest of the sugar away, letting her thumb linger on her lips.

The Doctor followed all of this with her eyes, her mouth slightly open and a stupefied look on her face. Her pupils had grown noticeably bigger and the flush had returned to her neck. Yaz looked at her impishly, and then turned back toward the door. She glanced over her shoulder to the Doctor, who was still rooted to the spot.

“Onward?” Yaz questioned. A good part of her thrilled to the effect she was having on the Doctor. 

The older woman nodded dumbly and pushed off from the counter. She stuck out her lower lip in exaggerated petulance. “We can come back later…for the biscuits?” 

Yaz laughed and gestured, beckoning to the Doctor. “Get a shift on, you. Cookies later.”

When the Doctor caught up to her, Yaz grabbed her hand and pulled her back out into the dark hall. They paused, regarding each other. The Doctor’s pinky finger moved to twine with Yaz’s. One side of her mouth twitched up dopily. Yaz was gripped by a strong impulse to close the space between them and lick the rest of the sugar from the Doctor’s mouth. She somehow managed to resist, but barely. She bit her own bottom lip and looked around.

There was one other door left to open. They prodded it open together and it swung inwards onto a room, shadows dancing with light from several candles.

“Bedroom,” said the Doctor, stating the obvious. The room was gilded silver in the light of the partial moon. There was a double bed covered with a charming pale white bedspread taking up the majority of the space, along with a small bureau and two wooden nightstands on either side of the bed. A tiny fireplace was at the foot, glowing with orange coals. Yaz stepped into the room and went to the window, admiring the delicate panes. There was crown glass in the lower left of the window, and she bent to peer through the wavering circle into the night.

The Doctor stood in the doorway, uncertainty plastered on her face. She was looking at the bedspread, and what was laid out on top. She cleared her throat noisily and glanced heavenward. 

“Yaz,” she said. When Yaz turned, she followed where the Doctor was looking. On the bed, neatly folded, were two sets of pajamas, deep blue in color. Almost Tardis blue. Her eyebrows rose dramatically. The clothes looked like liquid. She reached out and touched the nearest pile. It was silky and cool under her fingers.

“Oh,” she said. “That’s…that’s nice. Thoughtful? I wonder – oh!” She held the top up to the Doctor. Over the right breast was stenciled, in golden thread, the name “Yasmin”. She looked at the other pajama top and saw “The Doctor” detailed in the same fashion. She covered her mouth with her hand, amazed.

“This is so bizarre!” she exclaimed. The house creaked loudly. “But it’s right lovely. Ace,” she hurriedly added. The bedroom door eased shut of its own volition and clicked home. Yaz gulped, eyes wide.

The Doctor grabbed her pajama top and ran her fingers over the name. For once, she was speechless.

Yaz searched for something to say. “Should we put them on? I am kinda knackered,” she questioned. The thought of the Doctor dressed in the silk was suddenly all that Yaz wanted in the world. Her pale throat against the lustrous blue fabric. Her hands shook slightly. “Look there’s a washroom. I’ll just pop in and change…” she trailed off. 

The Doctor’s expression was unreadable, but she bobbed her head, avoiding Yaz’s eyes once more. Yaz hesitated. “Doctor – you all righ’?” She walked around the foot of the bed and laid her hand on the time lord’s arm, concerned.

The Doctor’s took a deep breath. “If you like, Yaz, I can pop back over to the living room and sleep there tonight, yeah? I don’t want to crowd you.”

Yaz squeezed her arm and smiled, inclining her head slightly to force the Doctor to meet her eyes. “Doctor, you daft thing. The pajamas have your bloody name on them, so why would you think I’d want you to go? Besides, I don’t fancy bein’ by meself in this house, as convinced as you are that it’s on my side. I’m still come over with a case o’ the abdabs.” The house made a deep noise like a chuckle that sounded like it came from the ceiling.

The Doctor huffed a laugh. She stood up straight and inclined her head toward the loo. “Off you go, Yasmin Khan. I’ll change out here.”

Yaz stepped into the small washroom and removed her clothes. She slipped out of her bra and pants as well, wanting to get the full benefit of the blue pjs. She slipped on the delicious fabric and felt her nipples harden against the material. Oh. This isn’t bad at all. She ran her hands over her body and shuddered. The bottoms were shorts, and she moved her hands across her crotch and over her thighs in circles, eyes slipping shut. She rested briefly against the sink, then turned and softly opened the door.

The Doctor was stood by the bed, nervously fidgeting. She looked gorgeous in the pajamas, just as Yaz knew she would. Her blonde hair was slightly mussed from the act of changing clothes. She looked delicate and sexy. Her pajama bottoms were full trousers, and her bare white feet poked out from under the hem. The sight of her toes for some reason ignited Yaz’s blood, and she could feel the blush rise into her face. The Doctor slapped her feet on the wooden floor, tapping out an absentminded rhythm. 

As Yaz entered the room, the Doctor uttered something that sounded like a curse. Her eyes were fixed on Yaz’s exposed legs, and she licked her lips. The blush in Yaz’s face deepened.

Yaz suddenly had a thought, and she folded her arms over her chest, fixing the Doctor with a solemn look. The Doctor’s eyebrows climbed. Yaz rested one shoulder against the doorframe of the washroom.

“Doctor, I wanted to ask you something. About…, “ she cleared her throat, mustering courage, “About the mistletoe.” she said.

The Doctor’s brow furrowed. “Hmm. Right, yes. I am sorry about that. Part of counteracting the curse is y’have to get to the person and kiss them without them knowing they’re under it. I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable,” She looked distressed.

“No, I get all that. And you didn’t. Make me uncomfortable. I’m sure you did what was needed. I…oh this’ll sound stupid.” She wrung her hands. 

“What’s going on, Yaz,” the Doctor said. She was earnest.

“Well, I were wondering…if it were someone else. Ryan. Or, or Graham. Would you have handled it the same way? Graham stranded under the mistletoe?” she waited for the Doctor’s response. The time lord was looking at her feet in thought.

“I dunno. I suppose so. In the moment. Yes?” The Doctor finished, clearly uncertain.

Yaz held her arms out in a “come on then” gesture and said, “Show me.”

The Doctor gawped. “Wha?” she said.

“Pretend I were Graham, yeah? I’m under the mistletoe. You need to break the curse. Have at it.” Yaz looked at her expectantly. She couldn’t quite control what she was doing. All she knew was she needed to get the Doctor close to her, and she was genuinely curious about how the Doctor would handle this. She smirked slightly.

The Doctor took a deep breath and clenched her fists. Yaz noticed the shape of the woman’s breasts under the pajama top and almost charged her right there and then, but she waited, determined. The embers in the fireplace pulsed brightly.

The Doctor fixed her with a steely, serious gaze and said, “Graham. Don’t you move, now.” She advanced toward Yaz across the floor.

Yaz grinned for a moment but then resolved to play her part. She squinted and did a passable Graham impersonation. “Oi, Doc, don’t you tell me I got sumfin’ on me face. I’ve plum well had it with surprises.” 

The Doctor almost broke into laughter, but held her role, and moved into Yaz’s space until she was right up against her. The silkiness of the pajamas slid between them, like a living thing, and their breasts brushed together. Yaz swallowed thickly when she felt how hard the Doctor’s nipples were. Yaz didn’t move, resolved to wait on the Doctor, but she couldn’t stop herself from blowing out an unsteady breath.

The Doctor lifted shaking hands to Yaz’s face, eyes focused intensely on her mouth. She brought both hands to cup either side of Yaz’s head, her strong fingers running through Yaz’s hair, and she murmured “sorry” before pressing her lips to Yaz’s. The kiss was as it was on the porch – The Doctor’s mouth warm and determined. But then the Doctor dipped her head and her tongue ghosted lightly across Yaz’s top lip. Yaz sighed softly, her hands coming up to rub the silken fabric at the Doctor’s waist. She pulled the Doctor’s hips toward her and pushed up against the doorframe. Their mouths danced together, becoming more urgent by the second.

The Doctor pulled her head back and looked down at Yaz, her hands still holding her head. They were both breathing heavier. 

She waited a long beat before saying gravely, “I just saved your life, Graham.”

Yaz’s heavily lidded eyes locked on the Doctor’s and she growled, “That’s enough about bloody Graham already.” With that she surged up and captured the Doctor’s mouth with hers, sucking hungrily on her bottom lip.

The Doctor made a ravenous humming sound in the back of her throat that went a very long way to turning Yaz’s legs to jelly. She moved her hands from the back of Yaz’s head, running them agonizingly slowly down either side of her neck, her tongue darting in and out of Yaz’s panting mouth before she fastened her lips back to Yaz’s. 

Yaz pushed the Doctor backwards, making the older woman stumble. Their lips parted with a slick pop. The Doctor looked surprised, and Yaz leered at her, taking hold of her shoulders and walking her towards the bed. As they went, Yaz pulled the Doctor back close to her, and trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses up the Doctor’s neck. The Doctor groaned and uttered some words that definitely weren’t English.  
When the backs of the Doctor’s legs hit the bedframe, Yaz pressed the woman onto the bed, following her body down and covering it with her own. She opened the Doctor’s legs with her knee and rubbed a strong thigh against her core, reveling in the debauched whine that bubbled up from deep within the older woman, her head thrown back in pleasure.

Her weight leaning on her left arm, Yaz palmed the Doctor’s right breast through the silk of the pajamas, and moved her mouth to the left breast, sucking wetly on the pebbled nipple through the fabric, soaking it. The Doctor’s hips bucked up, rubbing her pussy into Yaz’s thigh. Yaz released the Doctor’s breast with her hand and quickly unfastened the three snaps holding the Doctor’s top together, still working the left nipple with her mouth, biting it lightly. The Doctor gripped Yaz’s shoulders as Yaz yanked the top away, revealing a creamy white breast topped with a pale pink nipple. Yaz switched her mouth to the exposed breast, laving the hard bud with the flat of her tongue. The Doctor arched off the bed, trying to bring herself closer to that delicious feeling. 

Yaz moved her free hand down to the waistband of the Doctor’s pajamas, hesitating only a moment before she pushed her hand under the fabric, her mind fuzzing with lust when she realized the Doctor had also foregone her pants. She cupped the Doctor possessively. 

“Y-Yaz” the Doctor whined. Yaz slipped back up to capture the Doctor’s lips in a punishing kiss, and ran fingers through the Doctor’s slick folds. Her cunt was positively dripping, damp and hot.

In a feral haze, Yaz lowered her weight onto the Doctor, gripping her blonde hair with her left hand and turning her head so Yaz’s mouth brushed against her ear. “You’re so wet for me, Doctor,” she panted. The Doctor moaned throatily in response. 

She spread the Doctor’s legs wider with her knee, and separated the Doctor's labia with her hand. She rubbed two fingers against and around the Doctor’s swollen clit, spreading the slickness before she moved them down and thrusted them unceremoniously into the Doctor’s liquid heat. She crooked her fingers up against the Doctor’s inner walls, and started pumping her hand in and out.

The Doctor’s eyes flew open and her mouth dropped wide, but no sound came out. Her hips were bucking wildly against Yaz’s hands, her pussy fluttering and clenching around her fingers. Yaz claimed the Doctor’s open mouth with her own, thrusting her tongue into the woman’s mouth in time with her fingers, fucking the Doctor in every way. The Doctor let out one long wild moan around Yaz’s tongue and her entire body tensed into a steel rod. Her orgasm ripped through the Doctor, a visible wave of muscles contracting.

Yaz slowed her fingers, heaving breaths. Her nipples sent sparks of pleasure directly to her clit as they met the Doctor’s each time she took a ragged gulp of air. The Doctor relaxed slowly, in increments. Yaz could feel how wet she was herself, and moved her hips ever so slightly against the Doctor's body. She took her time as she watched the most glorious vision underneath her, the Doctor’s blonde hair thrown across her face, a few strands stuck in her open mouth. Her eyes closed in bliss and the skin of her neck and breasts splotchy with rosiness. Her hand was clamped onto Yaz’s arm in a deathlike grip.

“Oh….” the Doctor said. “That.” her breath hitched. Her eyes looked up at Yaz, clouded with hunger.

“Yaz” she said, as if seeing the young woman for the first time. “Yaz,” she said again, and reached a hand up to brush across Yaz’s lips. Her hazel irises were all but gone, swallowed by black longing.

She shifted slightly, and then with surprising strength, she flipped them over, pinning Yaz’s hands over her head. She bent and swiped her tongue across Yaz’s lips, mimicking Yaz’s early position by rolling her hips, her knee pushing between Yaz’s, grinding down on her clit. Yaz’s eyes widened and she whimpered.

The time lord looked at her darkly.

“My turn,” she growled.


	5. Just desserts; or, Every little thing she does is magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor retaliates.

Yaz’s eyes became shiny with tears. She was so overwhelmed with desire and the Doctor was everything and she was staring at Yaz like she was the only thing in the world. It was too much. Too much but not enough. Not enough but everything she needed. 

The Doctor seemed to sense the shift in her and released Yaz’s hands, running her fingertips lightly and languidly down the younger woman’s arms, gently tracing patterns on her skin, but never breaking eye contact. Yaz felt goosebumps and tingles in the wake of the woman’s touch. The Doctor’s hands were rough, scored with callouses, even after so little time in her body.

“Yaz. Yasmin.” The Doctor moved one hand up to Yaz’s face and held her, a tender smile flitting around her mouth. “Hmm. Not quite so awkward now, amn’t I? That arrived just in time.” Her body was flush with Yaz’s. The Doctor’s pajama top was open and her bottoms were rucked halfway down her legs. She was rosy and breathless. “That were amazing. You rendered me without words. Very rare, is that. Thank you, gorgeous girl…,” she paused. “I want…I want to make you feel everything good. I want you to feel how very much I want you. And I do. Have done. For a while,” she said, running her fingers down Yaz’s neck, “Gods, how could I not? I covet you.”

Yaz reeled with the confession. This person, this otherworldly riddle – wanted her? She clutched at the Doctor’s hips desperately.

“May I? Show you?” the Doctor finished timidly. Focusing on Yaz’s neck, she dropped her head and kissed her on the pulse point at the base of her throat. She nodded an affirmative against the Doctor’s attentive mouth. Yaz uttered a watery sigh and ran her hands up the Doctor’s back, under her loose pajama top, feeling the muscles flex and shift as she fanned kisses up to Yaz’s jawline and on to her mouth with a slow, deep kiss. 

Yaz moved her hands up to the collar of the Doctor’s top, pulled her closer greedily, and peeled the material down her shoulders. The Doctor continued the kiss and helped to shrug the shirt over her forearms and off. 

“Doctor.” Yas said as she broke the kiss. “Touch me. Please. Everywhere.” she gasped. The entreaty did something to the older woman and she connected again with Yaz’s lips, pushing her tongue into Yaz’s mouth, groaning in delight as Yaz’s tongue joined hers, rubbing wetly together.

The Doctor reluctantly raised her magnificent mouth away from Yaz, shifting up so she was holding her weight on her two outstretched arms. She looked down at Yaz wide-eyed, like she were formulating a plan. The flickering candlelight made her seem as otherworldly as she was, casting her features into dark, spinning galaxies. There was no possible way for Yaz to look at her other than with complete and total worship.

“Budge up a bit”, she huffed, wrapping one hand around and under Yaz’s back, lifting and helping her move toward the headboard. She laid her down so Yaz’s head was on a pillow, and sat back on her haunches in between Yaz’s spread legs. She leaned to one side and wriggled unceremoniously out of her half-off pajama bottoms, and returned to Yaz, whose eyes now roamed over the Doctor’s bare skin lustily. Her sex was on full display, her curls darker and dampened. Her tantalizing breasts were small and pert, nipples standing out hard. They were still slightly wet from Yaz’s ministrations and Yaz’s hips inadvertently yearned upward. 

The Doctor reached out, biting her own lip, and dragged her hands leisurely up Yaz’s splayed bare legs, from the crook of her knees up to her inner thigh, her fingers slipping under the hem of her shorts, and then travelling back down, then back up again; a powerful rhythm. Yaz’s hips gave another twitch forward and her head tipped back, eyes slipping shut, before fluttering back open and focusing on the Doctor. She didn’t want to miss a moment of seeing her like this. 

“Your skin is so beautiful,” the time lord murmured. “Let’s have more of it, shall we?” with a cocky grin, she shifted forward to hover over Yaz, placing a kiss on her slack mouth, blonde hair tickling the younger woman’s face. Their hips were connected together now and the Doctor slipped her hands quickly under Yaz, grabbing her arse and hoisting her closer. She moved both deft hands to Yaz’s chest, running her thumbs simultaneously over her nipples through the fabric, and then to the opening of the top, unsnapping the first clasp torturously slow.

“Mmm. Feel like it’s Christmas and I’m opening my present.” The Doctor teased, running her fingers under the top along the seam, up and down across her sternum, letting Yaz feel her desire and intentions. Down to the next snap, casually skimming against Yaz’s breasts, the Doctor’s hips subtly rocking in time to the swipe of her hands, her pussy pressing against Yaz’s through the pajama bottoms. She popped another snap. With a grunt, apparently becoming impatient, she ripped apart the final snap, and spread Yaz’s top wide, rolling her hips forward again at the sight. 

“Are you my present, love?” the Doctor purred. She brushed the backs of her knuckles and hands up from the flat of Yaz’s stomach to the undersides of her breasts, tracing their outline around and back down. 

“Duh-doc-” was all Yaz managed to get out before the Doctor captured her right nipple in her mouth, drawing circles around and around while she suckled. Yaz slapped the bedspread with one hand and buried the other in the Doctor’s hair, needing more. The Doctor released her nipple, dragged her teeth across skin and lightly nipped on Yaz’s collarbone, and moved to the left breast, giving it the same devotion. She drew hard and then moved back to the right, as if unable to choose between the two. She let out a soft sigh. Yaz lifted her body off the bed with each touch, craving as much of the Doctor’s contact as possible. Her legs bent and hooked around the back of the older woman’s bare thighs, and her spare hand reached down and squeezed the Doctor’s arse roughly.

“I’m gettin’ distracted,” The Doctor laughed softly against Yaz’s skin. “Gotta concentrate.” She stuck her tongue out, dragging the point around each breast before running her mouth down over Yaz’s stomach, licking obscenely at every contour. She grabbed Yaz’s pajama bottoms, huffing a breath at her belly button. Yaz surged up at the sensation, scarcely holding it together. The Doctor shifted backwards and pulled Yaz’s shorts down her legs and off, tossing them away without a thought. She placed a kiss onto the side of Yaz’s left knee.

Her eyes were black holes of want as she took in Yaz’s torso, bathed in candlelight, her skin golden and glistening. She bent back down and kissed Yaz’s belly button softly before shifting so she lay between Yaz’s legs. Yaz lifted her head to stare down at the Doctor, who locked eyes and placed the flat of her tongue to Yaz’s pussy, dragging it upward forcefully through her folds, ending on her clit. She made another humming sound in her throat that shifted almost into singing as she licked.

And then the Doctor’s tongue was inside her, and the feeling was so glorious, Yaz was afraid she’d pass out. “Fuck,” she squealed, and the Doctor moaned in response.

She could feel her walls pulsing under the time lord’s attentions and was quickly hurtling over the edge. The Doctor replaced her tongue with her finger, shifting her focus to Yaz’s clit. She swept tight circles around the bud, her finger pistoning in and out of Yaz’s cunt, twisting and circling to touch every inch of Yaz. 

“Doctor” she whispered, the naming dragging on into a whine as the Doctor hit a particularly sensitive spot. She felt drunk. She lifted her head again and what she saw would stay in her mind forever.

The Doctor’s eyes were nearly shut in ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head. She sucked hard on Yaz’s clit and flicked it with her tongue, a high mewl tearing from her throat like a voracious kitten. 

Yaz came then and there, her panting and moaning frantic, her leg muscles spasming as she tried to lift off the mattress like a rocket. The Doctor had her pelvis pinned down and kept her mouth on Yaz as she rode the orgasm. Yaz turned boneless, all of the tension pulled out of her and thrown out into the night. She made a desperate “hunh hunh” sound as her heart rate tapered back down to normal. In her delirium, she lifted her hands to her breasts and kneaded them wantonly.

The Doctor placed a chaste kiss to Yaz’s inner thigh, and slowly inched her way up Yaz’s body, whispering more alien words into her skin, kissing her as if in prayer. She left goosebumps in her wake. She reached Yaz’s mouth and kissed her passionately, her talented mouth ratcheting Yaz’s need back up into a roaring fire almost instantaneously.

The Doctor spread Yaz’s legs wide and fit her hips between. She dragged her lips down to Yaz’s neck, biting her, simultaneously pushing her hips into Yaz, their clits connecting and sending fireworks fizzing into Yaz’s brain.

“Ungh,” the Doctor grunted. “This…mmm…thuh-this, I…oh god…I remember.” She started thrusting her hips desperately, shagging Yaz mercilessly, pumping against her. They rutted like animals.

Both Yaz and the Doctor were reduced to frenzied noises, echoing each other in chorused moans. Each sound getting longer and more ragged as the intensity reached its pitch. Yaz clung to the Doctor for dear life, all thought gone except the feel of this woman above her. The Doctor pinned Yaz’s hands above her head and stilled against her with one final filthy moan, and Yaz tumbled into oblivion.

She swam back into awareness, unsure how long she had lost the time, whether seconds or hours. It could have been either. The Doctor was collapsed on top of her. She only just managed to lift her left hand to the Doctor’s hair, stroking it. The texture was so alluring and soft. 

Yaz murmured gently, saying the only thing her addled mind would let her. “Wow.”

She felt the Doctor’s teeth against her neck, grinning. She nuzzled Yaz. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The Doctor pulled away and shifted to Yaz’s side, her arm flung over Yaz’s stomach possessively.

“That. That were positively incendiary. Scandalous, even.” She tilted Yaz’s head towards her and fixed her with an adoring look. “Yaz. You….I…” she struggled for words.

“I feel exactly the same way, Doctor,” she laughed, placing a kiss on the Doctor’s nose. She sighed dreamily. “Now, I really am knackered,” she yawned. The Doctor rolled away from her. Yaz made a yearning noise in her throat, and the Doctor looked at her, a slightly drugged look in her eye.

“Just turning down the bed, love.” she pulled on Yaz’s hand and they climbed under the covers. As they found their positions against each other, the Doctor twined her fingers in Yaz’s hair, pulling it to her mouth and inhaling deeply. 

“This is my favorite day ever,” Yaz whispered sleepily. The Doctor skimmed a kiss on her temple, Yaz’s limbs draped across her.

“I think it just might be mine too, Yasmin Khan.” she said, a sadness creeping into her voice that Yaz hadn’t heard before. Then she seemed to shake herself.

“I can’t promise I’ll be able to keep my hands off you for the entire night, but I’ll at least let you have a few hours kip.” she thumbed Yaz under the chin and lifter her eyes to hers. Her pupils were still blown out with need. 

“A few hours. No more.” she placed a kiss on Yaz’s mouth and let her head fall back into the pillow, pulling Yaz as close as possible. “No more,” she said again, her words tinged with something Yaz couldn’t decipher. She rubbed her head into the Doctor’s skin and closed her eyes. The house had considerately snuffed out the candles and the only light came from the coals in the small hearth. The walls seemed to breathe deeply.


	6. I will follow you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts and worries about the peculiar nature of the house, plus some late night fridge rummaging. The Doctor talks briefly to cheese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kind of has a mind of its own but I'm going to just keep riding it. IDK. Hope you guys like it. Sorry in advance for any typos/weird turns of phrase. I posted this in a stupor.

Yaz came up out of sleep slowly and let out a contented sigh, shifting her legs under the warm covers. She turned and gazed drowsily, patting the sheets next to her where the Doctor should be, but she was gone. Yaz fought down the intense absence she felt. 

It was still full night outside, the moon glinting prettily on the snow outside the window. The room was near dark in the low light from the fireplace. If they were as far north in Scotland as the Doctor had said, the nights were probably longer than usual. The Doctor. Yaz sighed again, closing her eyes, remembering the surprising turn of the previous hours. A small disquiet was growing in her mind. If the house, and the wulver, were in tune with her, or were in tune with what she wanted, or however the hell this worked…how much of the brilliant things that just happened were the house, and how much was the Doctor and her? Yaz wasn’t sure she could handle the thought of all that happened being coerced, or, or not honest. Wherever was the Doctor anyway?

She smiled gently and huffed a laugh, realizing where the Doctor had gone. She stretched and clamored out from under the blankets. Looking down guiltily, she realized her pajama top was still on her shoulders, seeming somehow more obscene in its half-on, half-off state. She buttoned one snap half-heartedly and scrounged, finding her shorts and tugging them on. 

She stepped into the hall and crossed to the kitchen, nudging the door open slowly, a smirk on her face.

The refrigerator door was open and the Doctor’s bottom half was visible around the door, her bare feet poking out from her pajama bottoms, doing a bizarre tap dance as she explored the contents of the fridge. She was rummaging frantically, muttering something about sandwiches. Yaz cleared her throat.

The Doctor’s head shot up into the edge of the fridge and she yelped, pulling back and squinting at Yaz, rubbing her head.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Doctor!” she started to step into the room but the Doctor held up her hands.

“Wait, Yaz, stop right there!” she said, waving wildly. Yaz halted dutifully, eyebrows raised.

The Doctor backed away from the fridge door, a giant wedge of cheese in her hand. She set it on the counter and looked at Yaz, though again, Yaz noted, avoiding her eyes. She felt a pang in her chest. The Doctor held her palms up in a “hold on” gesture. 

“Yaz,” she said, taking a breath, looking slightly to the left of Yaz’s face, “I need to say something quick and if you come anywhere near me I won’t be able to focus…” she trailed off, her yes roaming over Yaz’s legs and her half-unbuttoned top, “…captivating as you are.” She licked her lips yearningly, and then she blinked once, hard, and her right hand jumped out and she slapped herself full in the face.

“Doctor!” Yaz yelled. Despite her need to touch her, she held back. 

“I’m a’right.” The Doctor shook herself and looked at the wedge of cheese on the counter. “Yaz,” she said, pausing thoughtfully.

“Doctor”, Yaz smiled crookedly, “are you going to talk to me through the cheese?” 

“I think I may have to, yes, just for a minute.” The Doctor frowned seriously.

Yaz folded her arms and waited. The Doctor gripped the edge of the counter and leaned toward the cheese.

“Yaz,” she sighed, “first off. I need to say that you are spectacular. Like, full on, next level, out-of-this-universe amazin’, any universe really, not just this one, and I weren’t kidding when I said that I covet…I am just, I’m…oh stars, I’m feeling awkward again. Bad timing.” she huffed a frustrated breath.

“I think this house may have, I dunno, magnified? – is that the right word? – magnified, or, amplified? Yes! Better! *Amplified* how we were feeling, are feeling, about, about each other…” she trailed off, her eyebrows screwed up in worry. “As wonderful as it was, what happened between us, and gods, was it wonderful, I’m concerned this house has us in the grip of something we can’t entirely control.” 

The candlelight in the kitchen lowered and a grumbling noise erupted from all around them.

“Well, that all but confirms it!” the Doctor gestured around her, spinning in a circle, stopping in front of Yaz and looking at her expectantly. “Yaz, I’m not sayin’ what we felt or what we did isn’t real or valid, I’m just sayin’, I…I didn’t want you to feel manipulated into feeling something that wasn’t genuine for you.”

Yaz looked down, tears forming in her eyes and dropping down her face, in spite of herself. Of course, the Doctor would have come to the same conclusion that she had. The thought that they might be influenced into expressing their feelings made her stomach flip with anxiety. She had done this. Caused this.

The Doctor tucked a finger under Yaz’s chin and tilted her face up so she had to meet the Doctor’s eyes. She fixed Yaz with a gimlet eye.

“No, Yaz. You didn’t hear me, did you?” she tsked, “You missed all the good parts, and focused on the iffy bit!” The pads of her fingers skimmed over Yaz’s cheeks, sweeping away the tears.

“All I’m saying,” she made sure Yaz was looking directly at her, refusing to let the younger woman evade her gaze, “is that you and me? We would’ve made it to where we are eventually. No avoiding it, really. I’m stubborn, and you’re stubborn, no, hush, you damn well no y’are!” she scolded when Yaz tried to respond. “We’re stubborn, but this…” and she placed her hand over Yaz’s heart, and then moved the hand to her own chest, resting between her two hearts, “…this were inevitable, in all the best and truest ways. And if you tell me now that you don’t feel the same way, I’ll do everything I can to resist whatever this is, only minimal harm done. I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you. Could never forgive myself if I did.” she finished, looking at Yaz with a kind of resolve that moved her beyond reason. 

Yaz cleared her throat and tried to swallow her emotions. “Doctor. I…I’ve wanted you near since the moment I saw you on the train.” she paused, sniffling slightly, her hand moving up to tug on a lock of the time lord’s blonde hair. “I thought the same, about the house, and what it was doing, and I felt awful about it when I woke and you weren’t in the bed with me, thinking it were all my fault. Trapping you somehow.” Tears were welling in her eyes again and she wiped them away angrily. “And I would’ve walked away from you, though it likely would’ve killed me. But not now. Too late for that. I’m all in.” 

The Doctor cupped her face with both hands and pressed light kisses into first her left cheek, then her right, touching the trails of her tears. Her kisses drifted up to her eyes, feathering soft sighs to her closed eyelids. 

“I, for one, bless this enigma of a house,” the older woman whispered, brushing her lips over Yaz’s face -- her eyebrows, her temple, her jaw, before hovering inches from Yaz’s lips. “I never dreamed I would be brave enough to work up the courage to kiss you,” she moved her mouth tantalizingly, hypnotically, drifting side to side, back and forth, touching Yaz’s mouth just enough that Yaz thought she might go mad with longing. The Doctor spoke directly into Yaz’s parted mouth, reveling in her sheer supplication. “And then the daft house gave me you, stuck under mistletoe. I have to be honest, mistletoe doesn’t require that intense of a kiss, I may have, err…exaggerated that a bit. Or a lot. Like maybe I didn’t even need to kiss you,” she pulled back just enough to look Yaz in the eyes, and Yaz could’ve looked back for all eternity. Full on goner, she was. 

But still, she did everything to focus and squinted at the Doctor, “Oi! You lied about the mist—“ The Doctor touched her lips to Yaz’s at that moment, smirking into the kiss, and then Yaz succumbed to everything she was feeling and didn’t care if she ever came up for air again.

The Doctor licked Yaz’s bottom lip, questing for access that Yaz was only too happy to allow. She opened her mouth and the Doctor groaned low, moving her tongue to drag across Yaz’s top teeth, nipping at her upper lip before darting the tip of her tongue into Yaz’s mouth. Their lips met and danced, and Yaz moved her hands up the Doctor’s stomach, under her pajama top, rubbing urgent circles into her hips.

Yaz felt a surge of invincibility and shoved the Doctor backward, into the wooden kitchen table. The Doctor looked shocked and the younger woman couldn’t help but laugh. She pushed a hand to the Doctor’s chest, between her breasts, fingers slipping between the opening of her top, stroking her thumb lovingly, over her sternum. She pressed until the Doctor perched at the edge of the table. Yaz moved in and captured the Doctor’s mouth in a kiss that was full of every want she ever had, hungry and desperate and totally in love. The Doctor wrapped her arms around Yaz and returned the kiss with fervor. Yaz grabbed the Doctor by the thighs and shifted her until she was sitting on the tabletop. She kissed her wetly, sighing at the closeness. She moved her hands over the Doctor’s shoulders and down, rubbing roughly over her breasts, massaging rhythmically, in time with her kisses. The Doctor’s head dropped backward, giving Yaz access to that magnificent, elegant throat.

Yaz broke their kiss and leaned back, watching as the other woman’s head snapped back up to look at her, her pupils so dilated they looked like ink. Yaz held her gaze through her eyelashes, popping the pajama top in one downward stroke. She leaned in and smoothed her palms up and outward shifting the top down and off the Doctor’s shoulders, stopping to breathe a sigh into the time lord’s ear, brushing her blonde hair away with her nose. 

“I wanna taste you,” she exhaled, and dragged her tongue around the outer edge of the Doctor’s ear before sucking and biting on her earlobe. 

The Doctor sighed softly, and Yaz kept on, “Mmm. I didn’t remember earlier, but this is new for you, isn’t it? This body?” She moved her hands to the Doctor’s naked breasts and ran fingers over her nipples, biting down again on her ear and the Doctor cried out “Yaz!” 

Yaz moved her mouth down the woman’s neck, reveling again at the deliciousness of it all, down to her chest, and pulled one of the Doctor’s nipples into her mouth. She marveled at how pale the areolae were and blew cool air onto the nub, pebbling it even more. She bit lightly and the Doctor’s hand shot up and grabbed Yaz by the hair harshly. 

“Sorry!” the Doctor squeaked, dropping into a throaty groan as Yaz sucked roughly again on the nipple.

“Well, then,” Yaz laughed gently, mouth still around the Doctor’s breast, “shall I keep explorin’?” 

She moved down and nipped at the skin above the pajama bottoms, dragging the material down over the Doctor’s hips and following the movement with her mouth. The Doctor agreeably, if somewhat jerkily, lifted her hips to help Yaz get the bottoms off and away. Yaz threw the Doctor’s legs over either shoulder and hooked a chair with her foot, pulling it to her so she could sit and give her undivided attention to the sight before her.

The Doctor, her Doctor, was laid out like a banquet and Yaz squeezed her thighs together in lust and rolled her hips in the chair. She could barely keep her eyes open, she was so turned on by this gorgeous creature giving herself to her. Her desire was so overwhelming; she struggled to think straight. She spread the Doctor’s legs, running her hands up to the Doctor’s pussy, circling but not quite touching it. She could see the moisture all over the Doctor’s legs and labia, completely drenched. Yaz whined uncontrollably. 

She looked at the Doctor, who was only just managing to keep her upper body propped up on her elbows, watching Yaz with her eyebrows knitted together. The Doctor started to mutter something as Yaz stared at her and moved between her legs, suddenly dropping her mouth and sucking at the Doctor’s pussy with enthusiasm. 

The Doctor’s words cut off and her upper body clattered to the table, unable to find the strength or will to support herself anymore. She swore harshly under her breath as Yaz licked at her slit. Her stunning cunt tasted hot and tangy, and Yaz moaned raggedly, lapping at her and wrapping her arm around the Doctor’s left hip, moving her right hand to press against the Doctor’s entrance. The Doctor had tightened her legs around Yaz’s head already, and Yaz was dimly (and happily) worried she might suffocate. 

She drew her hand up to the Doctor’s slit, gathering the moisture and moving it up to circle her clit and back down, humming deep in her throat. Her mouth was inches away from her clit, panting as she moved her fingers around and over the sensitive mound. The Doctor’s hips were rolling in need, and Yaz finally gave in and sucked her clit into her mouth, rubbing her pointer finger against the Doctor’s opening, circling around her entrance, following the motions of her mouth.

“Yaz, please!” the Doctor wailed piteously, and Yaz worked her finger into the Doctor’s cunt, pressing onto her clit firmly with her tongue as the digit slid home. 

The Doctor grunted and hissed “yes, oh..., yes”. Yaz could only see the Doctor’s breasts pushed up into the air, her head was thrown back so far. Yaz moved her finger in and out in earnest, rolling her tongue around the Doctor’s sensitive bud.

The Doctor didn’t last long, they were both so worked up, and her legs clamped down, trapping Yaz in the best way while she came, her mouth unleashing the sexiest moans and half-words, at least what Yaz could hear muffled through the Doctor’s skin. Her legs relaxed and her heels dropped, her knees resting on Yaz’s shoulders. Yaz’s breathe skimmed against the Doctor’s inner thigh and she licked lazily before moving in to kiss her clit once more, making the Doctor’s hips jerk up involuntarily.

“Mercy”, the Doctor breathed, her hands open at her sides, unable to move.

Yaz slipped up the Doctor and kissed her slowly, knowing the Doctor could taste herself in their kiss. 

Yaz clamped her thighs together in renewed want.

The Doctor lifted her head weakly and said, “first, a biscuit, and then…dessert.” She looked almost savage with desire and Yaz sat back down in the chair in a daze. The Doctor shuffled clumsily off the table and wandered shakily to the plate of cookies. She swallowed two in quick succession, boring eyes into Yaz the whole time. 

Yaz couldn’t help it; she dropped her hand into her waistband and started to touch herself.

The Doctor saw, licked the sugar off her mouth, her eyelids fluttering.

“Oh no, you don’t. Not without me,” she said.


	7. Religion (you can lay your hands on me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Yaz yield to the will of the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ….Apparently once I’ve slipped into the gutter it’s near impossible to climb back out again.

The Doctor wolfed down a few more cookies and scrabbled for the silver water pitcher near her on the counter top, keeping her eyes on Yaz as the younger woman moved her hand inside her shorts. They had stopped questioning the house and blindly accepted that what they needed appeared for them. Yaz was almost sure that pitcher hadn’t been there a moment ago. 

Maybe that was good, maybe bad. 

Yaz only knew if she didn’t touch her own body this instant she would spontaneously combust. Her fingers dipped into her folds and she gasped at how wet she was. The Doctor tipped the pitcher back to her mouth, drinking in great gulps, and sloshed a good bit of water down her bare front in the process.

Yaz groaned softly, eyes roaming over the Doctor’s nude form, now partially slicked with cold water. The Doctor’s nipples had darkened slightly, and her skin shone, glistening in the candlelight. Yaz’s legs parted reflexively as she took in the sight. She had a moment where she thought, if someone had told me I’d be touching myself while the Doctor was starkers eating biscuits yards away from me, I’d have asked where I could get whatever they were on. Yet here she was.

The Doctor slammed the pitcher back onto the counter, wiped her mouth with the back of one hand, and grinned blazingly at Yaz. She had a rascally, run-away-with-me look in her eyes, and for a moment Yaz’s heart glided like something in flight. 

The time lord swiped two fingers through the loose sugar on the plate and stalked over. She grabbed the wrist of Yaz’s buried hand, and pulled it away, ignoring Yaz’s low whine at the loss of contact. She hoisted her to her feet. Holding Yaz’s eyes, she brought Yaz’s hand up to her face, her tongue darting out to lick the slickness off, slipping between her fingers before pulling the two digits fully into her mouth. The feeling was so delicious -- the Doctor’s tongue curling and circling. Yaz canted woozily closer, the edges of her vision clouding, grabbing feebly at the Doctor’s hip with her other hand. The Doctor blinked lazily, and raised her sugar-dusted fingers and held them against Yaz’s lips. Yaz drew the fingers hungrily into her mouth and sucked at the sweetness, her eyes sliding closed, overwhelmed by the dual sensation of each woman sucking on the others’ fingers.

The Doctor released Yaz’s fingers with a pop and whispered huskily, “That’s what you taste like to me, Yasmin.” She pulled her fingers from Yaz’s mouth and replaced them softly with her lips, kissing her deeply and slowly. Yaz gasped as the Doctor’s cold body pressed against hers. After long moments, glorying in the searing kiss, the Doctor leaned back, both women breathing hard and raggedly.

“The sweetest thing,” she dragged her thumb across Yaz’s bottom lip.

With that proclamation, she fell into the seat previously occupied by Yaz, spread her legs and pulled Yaz between them. She pressed her forehead against Yaz’s belly, inhaling deep. Her hands quested up Yaz’s torso, and she shifted her head to look up Yaz’s body, eyeing the hastily closed top. She breathed a laugh and shook her head, “I don’t think you really wanted this on, did you?” she slipped her hands under the hem and scratched long, soft lines into Yaz’s stomach, up to the underside of her breasts, then moved around to grip Yaz’s arse through the thin pajama bottoms, pulling their bodies closer. Yaz placed her hands on the Doctor’s shoulders, bracing herself and working hard to keep her legs from giving out. Her knees were wedged against the Doctor’s wet sex and Yaz’s head slumped back from the sheer weight of her desire. She could feel her heartbeat throbbing in her own cunt and swore shakily -- “fuck me” -- the words dragging out as she sighed.

The Doctor released the pathetic snap and pared the top off, dropping it to the floor behind Yaz, her mouth moving against Yaz’s stomach as her hands worked, murmuring against her skin, “oh, I plan to, Yaz,” and she hooked her fingers into the shorts and dragged them languorously down Yaz’s legs.

The Doctor snuck her tongue teasingly into Yaz’s slit and over her clit as her face drifted past, moving the shorts all the way to her feet. Yaz grunted and her hips twitched.

The Doctor shifted Yaz back, moving her like a chess piece, unresistant. She drew her own legs together and prodded Yaz to throw a leg over hers so she was straddling her lap. She pulled Yaz down brusquely, as flush as their bodies could be, looking up at her in rapture. Yaz was almost embarrassed at how turned on she was. The Doctor’s eyes darted around, taking in Yaz’s loose hair – it had come undone from her various pinnings over the course of the night and was hanging like a curtain around them both. 

“Worshiping in the church of Yaz,” The Doctor scrunched up her nose and sighed dreamily. She grabbed Yaz by the hips and shifted her higher. She trailed hot, wet kisses down Yaz’s neck. Her right hand snaked between them, down between their legs, her fingers rubbing Yaz’s pussy gently, rhythmically, and very clearly making contact with her own sex, judging by the soft, yearning noises the Doctor was making. The feeling was amazing and frustrating all at once.

The Doctor sealed her lips to Yaz’s neck, high up close to her jaw, while her left hand moved to Yaz’s breast and fondled it tenderly. Her other fingers continued to work Yaz, tracing her sex in slow, devious circles. 

Yaz whispered so quietly it was no more than a soft breath, “please.” 

The Doctor, moved her hand between them, and dipped the tips of two fingers barely into Yaz’s entrance before pulling slowly back out, “what’s that, love?” she hummed, moving her fingers and making the same motion, pushing leisurely into her, teasing Yaz mercilessly.

Yaz’s hips flexed down, searching for the Doctor. “Please,” she sobbed. She felt like a ship wrecking over and over against the Doctor. 

The Doctor smiled devilishly, acknowledging Yaz’s need. She moved to her right breast, and wantonly pulled as much of it into her mouth as she could, sucking hard. Yaz was stunned as the other woman’s cheeks hollowed with the effort. The Doctor exhaled heavily through her nose, sweeping her tongue in circles around Yaz’s breast as she suckled deeply.

On the same breath, her fingers thrust deeply into Yaz’s cunt, bottoming out as far as she could go.

She looked up at Yaz through her fair eyelashes and Yaz’s leg muscles contracted as she started moving up and down helplessly on the Doctor’s fingers. The Doctor sucked on her breast in time with Yaz pushing against the time lord’s fingers. 

The younger woman’s mouth dropped wide and her eyebrows flexed inward, so luscious was the all-encompassing feel of the Doctor. She couldn’t hold her head up and it dropped to the Doctor’s shoulder, her face pressed into her neck, her mouth open and panting heavily as she moved against the Doctor, grinding into her without thought. She flexed her legs again and again, driving herself up and down eagerly on the Doctor’s clever fingers.

Yaz could feel herself climbing quickly toward her orgasm and her rhythm started to falter, her legs quivering, becoming erratic under the Doctor’s ministrations. She thrust down again and again, greedy for more, more of this feeling, her face buried against the Doctor’s neck. Yaz could feel the delicious slide of the other woman’s digits inside her. The Doctor hummed, clearly feeling her unraveling.

“I’ve got you, Yaz,” one strong hand braced, splayed across her back, keeping Yaz in place. She renewed Yaz’s earlier tempo, fucking her with her fingers relentlessly, whispering nothings into Yaz’s ear as she kept up the pace. 

“Darling…so sexy…mine…sweetest…want…” she chanted.

Yaz struggled, clinging to the Doctor like a lifeboat, until the Doctor bit her earlobe and husked out, “come, love”. 

Yaz canted her hips down in a final wanting, keening loudly, clenching and quaking all over as she let go. She slurred incoherently against the Doctor’s neck, felt herself come unmoored, her muscles drifting away from her on the tide. She wrapped her arms around the Doctor possessively. She had a faint awareness of the Doctor’s fingers gently moving against her sex, bringing her back down in a slow stroke. Yaz lifted her head drowsily and pushed her forehead against the Doctor’s.

Yaz pulled back to look in the Doctor’s eyes, feeling doped and loopy. She stroked the Doctor’s cheek drunkenly.

“Doctor. Fuck. What was that?” she said in wonder. She dipped down and captured the time lord’s mouth in an exhausted kiss. The Doctor withdrew her hand from between them, wiping discreetly on the chair. She pulled back and placed a kiss on the underside of Yaz’s jaw.

“That was everything I’m feeling for you right now. Right now and always.” The Doctor said simply, and hugged Yaz close, burying her face into Yaz’s chest. 

Yaz rested against her, feeling like nothing more than a sandbag bolstering against a flood. She laughed softly, tugging on the Doctor’s hair so the other woman met her eyes. 

“I’m so thankful for you, Doctor,” she said. “And you’re an absolute lioness,” she added. The Doctor laughed. She peppered the Doctor’s face with kisses and reluctantly lifted herself up and away from the Doctor, throwing her leg over and standing awkwardly.

“Well,” she said, unsure what to do. She fidgeted uncertainly.

The Doctor smiled warmly up at her. She stood and swept Yaz up into a hug, spinning her around in a circle, Yaz yelping happily. 

“Let’s go get some more sleep,” The Doctor said, planting Yaz on the ground and pressing a kiss into her neck. “I’ve never been so worn-out, and that’s saying something. You ran me down, Yaz.” She lifted her hand to Yaz’s face and cupped her cheek. The look in her eyes was vast and incomprehensible. 

She unceremoniously gathered their rent pajamas from the floor and clasped Yaz by the hand. She threw her a jaunty wink, and pulled her back through the dark hall to the bedroom. Yaz’s eyelids were drooping with fatigue as they stepped back into the room in the glimmering light of the fireplace. The Doctor dropped the clothes on the floor, peeled back the covers and climbed in, patting the spot next to her, beckoning. 

Yaz had never seen such a beautiful sight as the Doctor, naked, relaxed, happy, and reaching for Yaz. She jumped into the bed enthusiastically, surprising the Doctor and making her laugh in delight. She reached over and touched Yaz’s hair lightly, admiring its softness. Yaz hummed contentedly and nestled into to the Doctor, moving her leg in between the Doctor’s and moving her hand over the skin of the woman’s stomach and ribs. She dropped her head to the time lord’s shoulder and puffed a breath against the Doctor’s neck. 

“I don’t care what happens tomorrow,” Yaz murmured. “I’m so happy now, Doctor. I’ll carry it for all time.” 

The Doctor ghosted her fingers lightly up and down the skin of Yaz’s arm. “Thank you, Yaz. Me too. Happy. I am…happy. Weren’t sure that would happen ever again. But here I am. You’re so…Yaz,” she finished, sighing.

Yaz chuckled and pulled the Doctor as close as she could and drifted off to sleep.  



	8. Christmas crackers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weather takes a turn for the worse. The house reveals more of itself.

Yaz opened her eyes to see the Doctor, in soft morning technicolor, all hazel eyes and bright smile, watching her impishly. She was nestled beside her, eyes roaming over Yaz’s face.

“Hiya,” the Doctor said, running her hands through Yaz’s hair, dragging her fingers against her scalp.

“If y’want me to go back to sleep, keep on doin’ that,” Yaz spoke softly, her voice a bit groggy from the rest, eyes slipping shut against the sensation.

“No. No, I don’t want that. _Yaz_.” The Doctor’s voice was winched in excitement, as if she were coiled and waiting to spring. She pulled her hands away from Yaz’s hair.

Yaz let her eyes roam around the room. The morning had come, although the light was still low and diffuse, like it was filtered through a sieve. Early still. The dark grey clouds outside the window were dense and close, like a winter storm was building.

Yaz’s eyes moved back to the Doctor and she smiled sleepily. She reached up to touch the time lord’s flushed cheek. “Are you ok?” she asked. “You look…I dunno, like…I’m either going to love or hate what you’re about to say.” she waited.

The Doctor’s grin widened exponentially. “Yaz,” she hissed, “we have _Christmas presents_ ,” she sucked her lips into her mouth, looking for all the world like a muppet. “I think the house left us gifts,” she whispered in near apoplectic glee, gesturing toward the bedposts, where rough-sewn red stockings hung, weighted by whatever was inside.

The Doctor nuzzled into Yaz’s neck and blew words into her skin, “can we open the presents? I am so curious to see what the house has left us – imagine!” the Doctor feathered a kiss into Yaz’s temple and down to her neck. "Also, I..."

The Doctor didn’t finish whatever thought she had started, and instead fell quiet as she continued to move her lips over Yaz’s neck. She shifted to position her mouth more completely against Yaz’s throat, a leg sliding in between Yaz’s, her foot dragging slowly up one of her calves. The Doctor ran her tongue in a rough swipe, turning her body further to press into the younger woman, pulling Yaz’s arms around her. Her hand teased up along Yaz’s ribs and she palmed her breast, rubbing lazily. She rocked her hips into Yaz's leg, letting out a shaky breath. Yaz drew her hands across the Doctor's back in languid motions, before pulling the Doctor's mouth up to hers, kissing her attentively, drawing her bottom lip between her lips and sucking slowly. The Doctor made a yearning noise and Yaz, despite every inclination in her body, pulled away from the Doctor and managed to whisper, “Presents.”

The Doctor leaned back and blinked several times, clearing her head.

“Yes!” she pumped a fist in triumph, spun toward the bedposts, and tossed off the duvet. She was shamelessly naked, suffused with anticipation. She plucked the stockings from the posts and brought them up to the head of the bed – they were helpfully labeled, a handmade tag for each. Yaz worked to recover from the Doctor’s attentions and shuffled out from under the covers. She glanced down, frowning at her own lack of clothes. The Doctor gripped her hand, pulling Yaz’s gaze up sharply, “no, now’s not the time to be bashful.” Reading Yaz’s face.

“If anything, it’s another Christmas present for me,” The Doctor winked wickedly, leaned in and pulled a deep kiss from Yaz before settling back cross-legged on the bed.

“I think you opened this one last night,” Yaz deadpanned, breathing heavily. The Doctor’s brows flew up and her mouth dropped open.

“I can’t decide if you meant that to be as filthy as it was, but I like it, in whatever spirit it were intended.” The Doctor beamed at her. Yaz sniffed decorously and then smirked, her face dimpling.

The Doctor made a “yee” noise in her throat before plunging her arm into the stocking. She pulled out a packet of custard creams and crowed with joy. “Yaz!” she showed the younger woman the packet of biscuits proudly. 

Yaz nodded indulgently, reached into her own stocking and pulled out a tube of brown paper, each end twisted into a spray of material. “Ooh, crackers!” She yanked on the ends and the present made a dull popping noise, spilling its contents onto the bedspread. There was a gold paper crown, and a small piece of jewelry – a bit of metal tied to a waxed cord; it looked like a bracelet. She tilted her head, examining. She didn’t recognize the dark metal, but it glinted and shifted liquidly, and was twisted into the figure eight shape of infinity. She held it up inquiringly to the Doctor.

“Oh.” The Doctor’s eyes widened, her expression full of what looked like pure astonishment. “That’s…that looks like _validium_ ,” she snatched the bracelet from Yaz and pulled it to her face, eyeing it closely, “How did it get here? I don’t understand.” She jumped off the bed and grabbed the sonic screwdriver from the nightstand, scanning the bracelet, “It’s inert. No longer living. This shouldn’t be here.” she looked up and around at the ceiling, her eyebrows pulled down.

“Doctor,” Yaz pointed at the stocking strewn on the bed. There was a similar package sticking out of the Doctor’s stocking. The Doctor reached for it, hands trembling slightly, and pulled it apart. A dark blue crown and a similar bracelet fell out. It was the figure eight of endless time, wrought in slightly lighter metal. The Doctor choked and clasped her hand to her mouth. “This, it isn’t possible. Gallifreyan zinc.” an anguished groan blew out of her mouth. 

The light in the room dimmed as waves of anger rolled off the time lord. She held the sonic screwdriver aloft.

“What. Is. This.” she intoned. 

The house shook, rattling in its frames, creaking loudly. Yaz shifted off the bed, coming to stand next to the Doctor, her legs shaking. She grabbed the Doctor’s arm, “what’s happened?” she asked, “what’s wrong?” The Doctor turned towards her and Yaz frowned at the look of confusion in the woman’s eyes. The Doctor held out her hand, the bracelets lying in her palm. 

She spoke to Yaz, and to the house. “This is a metal from my home planet. And this one, this is validium. If it were active,” her breath hitched, “but, no, there isn’t enough to make it dangerous.” she trailed off, talking more to herself now. She turned back toward the house, directing her gaze to the fireplace.

“Is this supposed to frighten me? I’m the one who gives monsters nightmares. These…trinkets won’t do it. Show me what this is for!” her voice was forceful, tinged with a dangerous edge that Yaz rarely heard. 

Yaz was looking at the stocking on the bed. She reached in and pulled out a small slip of paper. There was handwriting on it – the same as in the living room, next to the bell. 

She read aloud, “For protection and light against the coming storm.” 

Yaz looked up at the Doctor questioningly. The Doctor’s eyes were flat and unreadable. 

“Get dressed, Yaz. We need to go find Graham and Ryan. Now.” she was looking past Yaz out the window. Heavy snowflakes had started to fall, and the light had slowly drained out of the morning. Deep, angry clouds were banked against the hills.

She and Yaz quickly pulled on their clothes, opened the door and started to cross the hall to the other room. The Doctor suddenly halted in the middle of the hallway and Yaz bumped into her back, muttering an apology. The Doctor put a hand out in front of Yaz, like she was protecting her. The Doctor was staring fixedly at a spot on the opposite wall, tilting her head strangely. There was a niche built into the wall, and inside it, a small, black crystal sat cradled in a metal frame.

“Doctor?” Yaz asked.

“I couldn’t see this room very clearly last night. It were so dark. But now. I, I see.” she maneuvered Yaz toward the living room door, keeping herself between the woman and the niche. She backed into the door, pushing Yaz through ahead of her and snapping it closed once they were inside. She rested her forehead against the door, then pulled back abruptly.

Graham and Ryan were crowded around the small chairside table, drinking tea and munching on some cakes. They both froze when Yaz and the Doctor came in, looking slightly guilty.

Graham lifted his tea in salute, “morning, girls, sleep well? Ryan and I agreed we had the best sleep of our lives, made better by the fact that we…” he trailed off as he read the feeling in the room. “All right, Doc?”

The Doctor strode over to them. They both wore matching paper crowns, Graham’s red, Ryan’s green. The Doctor lifted Ryan’s arm – his sleeve fell back and revealed a bracelet tied around his wrist. It was the same, the infinity, but crafted from a bright, shiny material.

“Wicked, innit?” Ryan said. “Graham got one in his stocking too. Christmas crackers – ace.” he gestured to Graham’s arm. Graham twisted his arm to show them – his metal was a flat, steel grey.

The Doctor scanned both with the sonic, and peered at its reading. “Dalekanium?! And…photavine steel? _What?_ ” she stumbled back, incredulous.

Yaz pointed out the window. “Uhm…guys?” she swallowed.

The weather outside had turned positively apocalyptic. Snow tore past the house in a high wind, buffeting the glass forcefully. The visibility had dropped to near zero, and a wall of dirty, dark white was all they could see.

“Gallifreyan zinc. Validium. Photavine steel. Dalekanium.” The Doctor ticked each metal off on her fingers. She looked outside raptly. "Ugh, it doesn't make _sense_!"

“Protection from the storm?” Yaz whispered. 

Ryan said, “how do we know the Tardis is even out there?” We have to stay inside until the storm’s passed, yeah?” he looked to the Doctor. 

Her breath hitched and all she said was, “Tardis,” before turning and looking intently toward the hall door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, clearly, the tone of this thing is alllll over the place. That's what happens when you write without any intention of where the story will end up. Hope y'all enjoy, despite its unevenness. :) 
> 
> There's was lots of me googling "Doctor Who metal" this time around to get the names right (or at least accurate in this universe), which led to some really funny discoveries of, like nerdy heavy metal.


	9. O Come, All Ye Faintful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I figured out how to end this thing, I think. Last chapter is a wee bit long. I had to get through the denouement. Hope y'all liked it. Comments and kudos appreciated - end of the first fanfic, after all, for me. Thanks for reading. ;)

The Doctor shook her head incredulously. Ryan, The Doctor, Yaz, and Graham watched as the blizzard raged outside. One moment there was nothing, not even the porch railing, another blink and there was a glimpse of the giant stone in the middle of the river, looming starkly out of the white. There was no sign of the Police Box. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it right away,” she was talking to all of them and only to herself at the same time.

Maybe Yaz had been around the Doctor long enough. Her insane way of making connections and putting disparate, unrelated moments together, but she caught up to something. At least, she thought it was something.

“Doctor,” she grabbed the Doctor’s coat in her fist, “this is a Tardis, isn’t it? And,” she took a deep breath to form the next words, “it’s the Master’s Tardis.” Not a question. The words hung in the air and the Doctor stared at her piteously, her head canted down. Ryan groaned.

“I didn’t know, couldn’t put it together until this moment,” the Doctor shrugged helplessly and grabbed her head in exasperation, ruffling her hair. “But what is it doing now. Where is he? Why the bracelets? The notes?” she spun in a circle with arms outstretched. “Y’hear me? What’s your game? Why did you put us through last night? Are you going to take it away? Tear everything down?” she gasped, gulping air in earnest. “I can’t, I can’t go back. I won’t. D’you hear me? Did he put you up to this?” her voice climbing into frustrated outrage.

Graham and Ryan stared at the Doctor in bewilderment. “Doctor?” Ryan began, “what’s going on? We had a good sleep, got some proper presents, right? What did I miss? Did you miss it?” he looked at Graham. 

“Son, I missed everything that a bloke could possibly miss, apparently.”

Yaz stepped to the Doctor’s side and grabbed her hand, turned the woman’s face to hers, shaking her head fiercely. “Hey. Don’t you ever think that can be taken away,” she growled, leaning toward the time lord’s ear. “I won’t ever let it go, not ever. We told each other that, so don’t you start.” she fixed the Doctor with a defiant stare, and addressed the house. 

No, the _Tardis_.

“Oi! You brought us here, clearly, with that distress signal. What do you need? Can we help? We owe you that after last night.” Yaz spoke clearly toward the fireplace. She squeezed the Doctor’s hand, pulled it up to her mouth and kissed her knuckles lightly.

Graham’s eyebrows climbed as he looked between the Doctor, Yaz, and the fireplace. He held his hands up in helpless supplication. “I am completely lost.” 

Yaz tossed him a dimpled smile and her eyes got shiny. “Mate, you missed a lot. But it was a good lot.”

The fireplace huffed twice, throwing smoke out into the room. The silver bell dinged soundly. Ryan craned his neck over the mantel and squinted, “there’s another note.” He grabbed the slip of paper and read aloud. 

“I miss my friend. You bring him faster.” 

“Friend? Does it,” he cleared his throat, “sorry, she? He? They?” he paused for second, waiting, “Do they miss the Master?”

The Doctor was looking at Yaz with the vastness of space, concern and care evident in her hazel eyes. Yaz returned it valiantly, waiting for the Doctor’s lead. The Doctor breathed in slowly and Yaz matched her breath, letting her know she was with her.

“Right, fam,” the Doctor nodded, “We need to find the Tardis,” the fireplace flared brightly, painting the room like a flash bulb, the flames banked high and hot. “ _My_ Tardis,” the Doctor clarified, glowering at the ceiling. She paused for a moment and moved to the wall, echoing what she had done last night. She placed a hand against the plaster wall and rubbed gently. “You’re amazin’, you are. I told you that already. If a tad nefarious in your intentions.” The brightness faded and the walls creaked in answer.

She patted the wall, spun and grabbed her rainbow scarf where it still lay over the armchair. “Get dressed, and put on those bracelets. Let me see them once you’re done. I don’t know how the Master got separated from his Tardis, but he’ll find it,” she paused and clenched her teeth, “and probably soon,” she moved the sonic over her own bracelet as she spoke, tying it around her small wrist quickly.

“Ok. Here’s the plan,” she spoke as she scanned the sonic over their bracelets in turn, “I’m storin’ up energy into each of these bracelets, ‘cause they can all carry a good charge and are, hmmm, how to put it? Smarter than average metals? That doesn’t sound like it’d be possible, but it is. You can use it for light, or defense, or sound, whatever you need…really quite a lovely gift, now that I puzzled it out,” she grabbed Yaz’s wrist and stroked a strong thumb over her pulse point before moving away. Yaz smiled dopily. She grabbed the down jacket and pulled it on.

“My Tardis; I have a strong feeling it’s out there waiting—“ 

“A strong feeling? A feeling? We’re goin’ out in that mess? On a hunch? Oh my stars!” Ryan was wrapped in his outerwear and was slapping himself on the shoulders, psyching himself up like a footballer.

“If you have a better idea, Ryan Sinclair, I’d love to hear it?” she raised one eyebrow at him. He shook his head bashfully.

They all moved out into the hallway, the Doctor looking to the niche with the crystal. “How could I not have known?” she muttered. 

Yaz gripped her shoulder briefly. “Didn’t want y’to know, did it?” Yaz ripped open the front door, letting in the tearing wind, the snow dusting the entryway. “Out we go!” 

They plunged into the whiteout, hunched against the cold – the temperature had dropped even more since last night. The Doctor shouted over the noise, “head toward where the Tardis was last!” she grabbed Graham’s hand. Graham held Yaz’s hand, and Yaz clutched at Ryan’s, pulling him down and off the porch. They crept slowly through the snow, trudging through the drifts in a human chain. 

Yaz was amazed at how it could be so bright, and yet so disorienting. She could just make out the Doctor’s outline, her arm thrown up in front of her face. She was about to shout an encouragement when an arm snaked around her throat and pulled her backwards, out and away from her friends’ grasp. She tried to yell but a hand tightened around her throat. She heard distressed shouts echo into the wind. They were all calling for her, the Doctor’s voice the loudest. Yaz could hear her voice cutting in and out over the gale. She could just make out a few words: _Use it._

“Ohhhhh. Oh, this.” a voice giggled in her ear as she was pulled farther away, her feet dragging in the freezing snow. “This is like my own little Christmas miracle.” Yaz knew that voice. She didn’t dare say his name. No use feeding the ego flame. She stayed quiet. The bracelet. She needed to bide her time. The Master flexed his grip around her throat and she wheezed.

“What was your name again?” he muttered into her ear. She felt the stubble of his beard but didn’t dare try to turn. He shook her violently.

“Yaz, right? Yaz. Yaz, Yaz, Yaz. Lost lamb. Lost human. Lost in the wilderness. Lost in the snow. No one will ever find you,” his hand constricted around her throat still more, and Yaz felt her eyesight darkening around the edges. She couldn’t let herself pass out. She thought of the Doctor and bared her teeth in a snarl as her police training kicked in.

She was about to thrust the hand with the bracelet back into the Master’s face, along with a well-timed stomp to his instep, but she never got the chance. The Master’s grip suddenly relaxed and a startled cry sounded behind her.

She whirled in time to see a pair of golden eyes staring at her through breaks in the snowy wind. Gusts revealed a wolf-like man, dressed incongruously in a tweed suit; his jaws open in a feral grin. The Master was bent backward in a painful rictus with the force of his captor’s hold. Heavy winter clothes and a full beard obscured his features. He grinned almost as fiercely as the wulver who held him, his teeth bright. The wulver tighetened his grip on the Master’s throat.

A sound ground out from the wulver’s mouth: rough, unused words. “I…mine. Protect what’s lost. Good. Goodness. Thank…thanks you.” Yaz’s eyes pricked with tears; fear, confusion and surprise warring in equal measure. She took deep, gulping breaths. The wulver turned toward the Master and he bent him back even further, jaws seeming to stretch wider, a thin line of drool dropping from its chin. The Master made a low, alarmed noise in his throat but sneered defiantly back. 

“Wait!” she said. She held her arm over her head and activated the charge in her bracelet, releasing a blazing red light and a pulse of energy that left her dazzled.

“Please,” she said, looking at the wulver emploringly, “please, give him back to the house. It misses him. And, and I know you’re its friend,” she stammered. “You, you gave it a fish,” she paused, searching for words to communicate, realizing how ridiculous that had sounded. “Good. Friend. House,” she gestured toward the house appearing briefly through the whiteout. “Thank you,” she added, shaking her head in wonder.

The wulver looked at her like it was looking right into her soul. Through her, out into the snow. It grinned again, showing so many teeth Yaz felt dizzy and panicky at the sight.

“Brave. Friend.” he rasped. And with that he tossed the Master up and away like he was a bag of old clothes, toward the house. He tumbled violently onto the porch. His Tardis opened its front door and caught the Master like a fast pitch, its doors slamming shut. No sooner had the door closed then the house began to make grinding noises, disappearing from view in the blowing drifts.

The Doctor rushed out of the white and gripped Yaz’s arm. Yaz realized the light thrown from the bracelet was still going; had guided the Doctor to her side.

“I’ve got you, Yaz! What’s happened?!” she gripped Yaz by the waist and pulled her in close. Yaz’s legs were shaking. The Doctor stepped back and her breath hitched when she saw the wulver before her. She looked back and forth between the creature and Yaz. Her face an open question.

“He saved me,” Yaz gulped, the adrenaline catching up to her. “The Master. He was here. He pulled me away. Was going to hurt me,” she felt tears welling again in her eyes. “His Tardis took him away,” she pointed to the empty spot where the house had stood moments ago. The Doctor placed a cold hand against Yaz’s face and turned back to the wulver.

“Thank you. Thank you, sir.” she yelled over the gale, serious, her voice strained with emotion.

The wulver bowed deeply, and the Doctor returned it. With that, he glanced at Yaz, moved backward into the white, and was gone. 

The Doctor turned back to Yaz, stepped close and kissed her, her lips cold and her breath warm. She broke the kiss and watched Yaz intensely. “You’re all right,” she said, a statement. Reassuring both of them.

“Doctor. We found it! We’re at the Tardis!” Graham yelled into the wind. “Activatin’ the charge now! Ryan, you first son!

A column of cold bright blue light erupted into the sky off to their left. They heard Ryan whoop in glee. The Doctor looped her fingers through Yaz’s and they worked their way through the snow toward the light. Yaz’s teeth chattered in the frigid air. 

The snow seemed to part above them suddenly, a warm, rosy glow appearing. Graham cheered this time. “That’s mine gone!” he shouted.

The blue outline of the Tardis emerged before them through the blowing snow, their friends holding their arms up and out, light beaming from their wrists. They were smiling giddily, Ryan doing a little jig in the open door. Graham gestured with his other hand, beckoning them on.

“Keep goin’, doves, almost there!” he grabbed the Doctor’s hand and pulled them both through the door, Ryan snapping it closed behind them. The lights from their bracelets winked out.

They stood in the Tardis entrance, all breathing heavily, the three humans shivering from the cold. 

“Well. That was something,” Graham said, glancing down at the piece of metal on his wrist. “This certainly came in handy.”

“What happened, Yaz? I had a hold of you one second and then you just disappeared!” Ryan dropped a hand to her shoulder.

“The Master. He took me. But…he didn’t get a chance to do anything. The—“ she huffed a disbelieving laugh, “the wulver. The wulver saved me. Snatched the Master off me like he were a ragdoll and tossed him into his own Tardis. I can’t believe it and I watched it happen.” she looked at Ryan with wide eyes.

“Woah.” was all he said for a minute, the enormity of what happened settling over the group. “I’m glad you’re ok then, Yaz,” he smiled at her.

“Me too, Ry,” she said.

The Doctor released Yaz’s hand and ran to the Tardis console, flicking controls at random, tilting a screen toward herself and peering closely at it. “Looks like his Tardis took him away. I don’t get a reading of it anywhere. Better get as far away as we can,” she dropped a lever and the Tardis powered up, launching into time. Her tensed shoulders relaxed and she leaned heavily on the console, her hand running through her hair absentmindedly. 

“Why don’t you lot drop your shoes and wet coats at the door. We’ll get them later. You all must be freezing,” her eyes drifted up to Yaz’s briefly and then away. She cleared her throat, and flicked another switch. Yaz frowned. 

“There’s hot cocoa in the second kitchen, I think, and it has a proper hearth. Be a dear, old girl, and get the fire started?” the Doctor addressed the Tardis. It beeped in response. She bent and unlaced her boots, dropping them where she stood. She moved quickly to Yaz and squinted at her.

“I’m going to need to make sure your actually ok, Yaz,” she ran her sonic over Yaz and examined the results. “Y’seem all right, but I want to run some tests to be sure. Never know with the Master,” she trailed off, swaying onto her tiptoes restlessly. 

“I’m honestly fine, Doctor, I—“ Yaz started.

“Nevertheless.” The Doctor emphasized the word loudly, raising her eyebrows at Yaz. Realization dawned on Yaz and she had to fight to keep the giddy smile from jumping to her mouth.

“Right, yeah. Can’t be too careful. Lead the way,” she tipped a nod to Graham and Ryan. “Catch you two in a bit,” and she followed the retreating back of the Doctor deeper into the Tardis. 

Ryan and Graham glanced at each other, surprised by the sudden departure. Ryan called after Yaz, “Don’t think you’re gettin’ out of telling me what happened at that house! Err…Tardis!” he yelled. Yaz waved over her shoulder.

She caught up to the Doctor just as she was entering Yaz’s room. She practically skipped through the door, but lost her breath as the Doctor pushed her up against the wall, slamming the door with one hand and grabbing Yaz’s shirt with the other. 

“He didn't...didn't hurt you did he?" her eyes were dark, her expression flinty and intense as she touched Yaz's throat, where a faint bruise was blossoming. Her eyebrows dropped and she made an anguished noise in her throat.

"If anything, he got the worse end of the deal," Yaz said, her hand covering the Doctor's against her neck, "you should'ave seen him go flying." She rubbed her fingers reassuringly.

"Don’t y’ever do that to me again, Yasmin,” the Doctor uttered lowly, leaning in and capturing Yaz’s mouth with her own, urgent and needy. Her tongue quested into Yaz’s mouth, and Yaz moaned, her hands coming up to the Doctor’s lapel, fisting the material to pull the Doctor as close as she could get. 

The Doctor’s hands were everywhere; in Yaz’s hair, behind her head, stroking her neck, grabbing roughly at her hips. She shifted and clutched Yaz’s arse, a knee sliding between her legs. The Doctor pressed the thigh harshly against Yaz’s clit, and Yaz moaned again, louder. The Doctor broke the kiss and nipped at Yaz’s lip.

“I mean it, Yaz. My hearts couldn’t take it. Promise me,” her eyes darted back and forth between Yaz’s.

Yaz was breathing heavily. She thrust her hips insistently against the Doctor’s thigh. She would give this person anything.

“Yes, ma’am,” she husked out, and buried her head against the Doctor’s neck high up near her jaw, attaching her mouth onto the skin there and sucking. The Doctor swore, her voice ratcheting up in pitch. She bent, grabbing Yaz behind the knees and hoisting her into the air. Yaz let out a startled yelp and wrapped her arms automatically around the Doctor’s neck.

“Good,” the Doctor whispered, her pupils blown out. She kissed Yaz as she walked to the bed, standing her next to it. 

“You are very wet,” the Doctor stated matter-of-factly.

“Well…I, yes, that’s what y’do to me,” Yaz said, blushing.

The Doctor smiled dirtily, arching an eyebrow, “thank you for that, but I meant your clothes. You’re cold from the snow and the wind. Let’s get you out of these,” she rumbled, grabbing and lifting Yaz’s shirt over her head. Now that the Doctor pointed it out, Yaz felt a chill shift up her spine and she shuddered, goosebumps popping on her skin. The Doctor dropper her sodden shirt and crouched to undo her jeans, working at the button, her face scrunched in concentration and her tongue trapped between her teeth.

Yaz watched affectionately, running her hand through the Doctor’s hair, tugging gently and massaging her fingers against the time lord’s scalp. The Doctor managed to pull Yaz’s bottoms off and then her eyes slipped shut for a second before fluttering open, her head butting into Yaz’s hand in pleasure. 

“That’s not fair,” the Doctor murmured, running her fingers up Yaz’s bare thigh. She stood and pulled Yaz close to her.

Yaz squealed, “Doctor, you’re just as soaked as I am!” she touched the Doctor’s cold shirt and felt the Doctor’s hard nipples beneath it. She paused before laughing, “Well, no sentence is safe from sounding filthy, apparently.”

She leaned in and kissed the Doctor, the saturated clothes shocking against her skin. She shuddered again, her mouth sighing into the Doctor as she peeled off her coat, breaking the kiss for scant seconds to push her shirts and bra up over her head. She paused impishly when the clothing obscured the Doctor’s head and leaned to lick one of the Doctor’s nipples.

“Hey!” The Doctor barked, but Yaz stopped her mouth again before she could say anything more. Yaz lost herself in the rhythm of the Doctor’s lips, the softness of her mouth. She felt the Doctor work frantically at the clasp of her own trousers, dropping everything when she finally got it open. 

The Doctor drew her arms around Yaz and undid the clasp of her bra, kissing her wetly on the shoulder as she leaned into her. She pulled back, locking eyes with Yaz as she removed it. Both naked now, she kissed Yaz softly and lowered her down onto the bed.

“Make me warm, Doctor,” she purred.

She threw a leg over Yaz and straddled her thighs, and Yaz groaned again at the sensation of the Doctor’s pussy on her skin. She gripped the Doctor at the back of the neck and pulled her into a forceful kiss, her fingers questing down the Doctor, lingering on her breasts and moving down between her legs. She ran her fingers through heat, wet and silky, and both women sighed in pleasure. The Doctor moved her face to Yaz’s neck, and slipped her legs between Yaz’s, pulling the younger woman’s legs up and out.

“I need to do this again, properly, now that I’m, well, sort of in control of myself,” the Doctor rasped, taking both of Yaz’s hands and trapping them in the pillows over Yaz’s head. Yaz groaned in protest. 

She lowered her mouth to Yaz’s, but stopped short of touching her lips. Yaz yearned upwards toward her face, but the Doctor pulled back just enough to keep their faces barely separate, pushing her hands further into the pillows. 

“Doctor, please,” Yaz stretched her neck to get to the Doctor, but the time lord pulled just out of reach. The rush of control evident on her face.

The Doctor whispered, moving her hips slowly between Yaz’s spread legs, “did y’know, Yaz, just how sensitive the human mouth is?” Her tongue darted out briefly and touched Yaz’s upper lip, and was gone again. She imperceptibly shifted her hips in time with her tongue. Yaz whined low in her throat.

“It’s…positively _packed_ ,“ she thrust her hips into Yaz, punctuating the word, her breath hot against Yaz, “with receptive nerve endings, so even the slightest brush sends a _cascade_ ,” another thrust, and the Doctor touched her lips lightly to the corner of Yaz’s mouth. “A...oh…a _cascade_ of pleasure to your brain,” she grunted against Yaz’s lips as she rolled her sex against Yaz’s, rougher than before. Yaz's eyebrows were winched together in desire. She met the thrust eagerly, her hands straining against the Doctor’s powerful grip, watching the Doctor through lidded eyes. She could feel how wet she was and reveled at the contact between them. 

Their breasts pressed together, sweat breaking out on their bodies under the Doctor’s increasingly urgent rocking. Yaz was panting openly now. 

“A kiss…a…kiss can set off…a _whirlwind_ of neurotransmitt--” the Doctor’s words faltered as she increased the thrusting of her hips, the bed moving in its frame, knocking hard into the wall. The Doctor gripped Yaz’s wrists almost painfully and dropped her mouth finally to connect fully with Yaz’s. Both women moaned loudly. The increasingly erratic pressure of the Doctor’s torso and pelvis colliding hard against Yaz’s cunt made Yaz see stars. She thrust her tongue into the Doctor’s mouth, her knees spreading wider. The Doctor pulled her mouth away, hovering over Yaz, her body in constant motion as they rutted, her muscles flexing with the effort. Her eyes were closed, and Yaz felt she could look at her like this forever. The Doctor’s pace stuttered as she edged toward her climax, the whole bed shifting with her power.

Yaz became incoherent with her own impending release, and as she came, she surged up and latched onto the Doctor’s neck, biting hard. The Doctor yelled, her body jerking against Yaz, twitching as she slowly eased down from her own orgasm.

The Doctor released Yaz’s hands, and Yaz dropped them into the Doctor’s hair, the Doctor’s head nestled against Yaz’s breastbone. Both women breathing hard. Yaz could do no more than pat at the Doctor’s head. They stayed that way for long minutes. She finally was able to speak.

“I liked the anatomy lesson whilst having sex. You’re a good multi-tasker, aren’t you, Doctor?” Yaz teased, grabbing a fistful of the Doctor’s hair to lift up her head so Yaz could plant a sloppy kiss to the Doctor’s smirking mouth.

Yaz was struck by a thought, “D’you think the Tardis will give us presents, like the Master’s did?” she asked lazily, drawing light circles on the Doctor’s back.

The lights in the room winked out and the room got very cold, and what sounded like an aggrieved beep sounded from all around them.

“Oh. Oh, no. I’ve upset her haven’t I?” Yaz asked.

“S’ok, Yaz. I’m very good at finding my way in the dark” she feels the Doctor smile against her skin as her hand snakes its way between Yaz’s legs.


End file.
